


A Tie of Red

by HypnosThanatosTwin



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - ABO, M/M, Manipulation, Sinister Fluff, a case involving noncon/rape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10627635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HypnosThanatosTwin/pseuds/HypnosThanatosTwin
Summary: Hannibal Lecter had not met a lot of people that woke his interest, but this prickly Omega thrust into his care by the organization hunting him, keeps tugging at strings best left unattached.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time trying my hand at the ABO universe, so bear with me :)  
> Hope you enjoy!

Hannibal was leaning back into the hot water of the bath. The warmth seeped down through his skin and flesh into his bones, relaxing his high strung body. Soft string music filled the air around him and he closed his eyes as the female alto began to sing in beautiful Italian, capturing the tragedy of her fate. A soft sigh escaped him as his mind came down from the stress of the day, the rudeness he had to endure and the restraint he had to enforce on himself.

He sank lower into the softly scented water until his chin almost touched the surface. The fingertips of his left hand rested on a barely visible scar just to the side of his abdominal aorta. A scar that he had inflicted on himself long ago and that had faded into barely there over all those years. Sometimes, in moments like these, when his thoughts were almost still and his body was losing all the tensions he had put it through, he remembered the feeling of cutting through the layers of his own flesh. Remembered the fascination at seeing what lay underneath and the desperation that had driven him to do this. To remove a part of himself.

But that had been almost thirty years ago and the times he thought about this scar had grown very few in between those years.

He thought about it now and he knew why. He had met a very interesting man this week. An Omega with a penchant of empathizing with the criminal minds. A man with a brain so high strung that he couldn't meet another persons eyes. He had been very rude, but Hannibal had provoked him on purpose, so he forgave him his rudeness. He could understand. He had even presented him with a gift. And tomorrow Hannibal would make breakfast to share.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Will didn't know what to make of Dr. Lecter. He couldn't get a read on him and that almost made him want to relax around the man. The good doctor was a Beta, though he was almost too elegant to be associated with the mostly bland humans of that dynamic. Will knew that this thought was racist, but it was very hard to be polite in your thoughts, when biology dictated your attractions. And thus he was confused about the start of interest that stirred when confronted with the psychiatrist. He was used to ignore the scents of Alpha's, the automated responses that wanted him to bare his neck to complete strangers because of instincts. 

He had tried to stay distant, to push Dr. Lecter away, but the man made him smile, made him laugh and never judged him for the cruel, horrible fantasies he sometimes had. He had started to watch the man with interest that hadn't been there for a very long time. He sometimes caught himself wanting to bare his neck to the man. Caught himself imagining what those restraint smiles would feel like on his skin, what a full blown smile would look like.

But the restraints of society made him look to the gentle Alpha Alana, who he had known for years, who was safe and socially acceptable. She was, rationally, everything he could ask for, but still his thoughts drifted to those intense brown eyes. The soothing scent and voice. The focusing touches to his arm and shoulders, which lingered with a warmth he could barely remember ever receiving.

It confused him. It distracted him constantly, broke into his thoughts on cases, at home, in sessions. 

“Will!” Jack Crawfords voice broke through to him and Will blinked back into the room. He didn't need to use his emphatic abilities to feel the annoyance and frustration rolling off of the head of the BAU. Sometimes Will wondered how Crawford got to be at the top of the behavioral analysis unit when to him, he seemed so blind. “What can you tell me?”

Will looked back towards the two bodies in front of him. The woman and man were stabbed multiple times, blood splattered carelessly all over the room. With this there was no elegance, no creativity, no art. Just hate and anger.

“It's a hate killing against same differentiated couples.” he just says, his gaze slipping away from the two dead Alphas. 

“He's killing gays?” Beverly asks, her face slightly ashen. Will remembers then that she is sharing an apartment with another Alpha and that he had long suspected that sharing rent and bills wasn't the only reason for that. And though the modern world seemingly accepted couples of same differentiations, it had only been legal for six years, which meant it was still frowned upon by most. He, as always, decided not to bring it up.

“Yes.” he answers. “Miss Fischer had been taking suppressors to hide her Alpha status.” he points out the woman. “I'm sure we'll find the bottles in the bathroom.”

“So our killer knew them, or at least watched them for a while to recognize their differentiation?” Crawford asked, his voice agitated and grating against Will's ears. His skin had felt sensitive all morning and the headache he had woken up with was getting worse by the minute. He really should've just stayed home. 

“Well, the suppressors only work on Betas and Alphas.” Will points out the obvious. “An Omega would recognize her as an Alpha even without the scent.” He really couldn't understand how his colleagues hadn't seen the obvious. The strong muscle definition, the style of dress, the photos all around the room of both of them as equals. Even the defiance in her expression of death screamed Alpha to him. 

“Are you suggesting an Omega killed them?” Crawford snorted in disbelief. For a moment Will wanted to scream. While Crawford was right, statistically the number of Omegas turning out to be killers can be counted on one hand, but it doesn't make it impossible. 

“I'm just pointing it out. It'd be enough that the killer is in contact with an Omega, who noticed Miss Fischer and unwittingly told them.” he tried to reason. Zeller comes in with a prescription bottle of pills. 

“Seems one of them was on suppressors, found these in the bathroom.” Will tried to ignore the looks shot his way and continued to study the crime scene. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Will, why don't you sit down? You look exhausted.” the soothing voice of Dr. Lecter breaks through his thoughts and Will startles from his pacing, noticing his surroundings. When did he arrive at Hannibals office? His gaze falls towards the man and he has to force himself through his breath, so it doesn't stutter. Hannibal Lecter stands like an Alpha, his presence filling up every niche of the room, while his scent clearly says Beta. Sometimes Will catches glimpses of the Beta, a hesitance when reaching out to touch Will, like he is not worthy of touching an Omega. An old fashioned, but appreciated, notion he wishes other people would still heed, because Will has to carry the scent and thus the reminder of their emotions around for the day, until he gets to a shower. 

He's holding two glasses of white wine, the liquid promising a heavy sleep. 

“Thank you.” Will says as he takes one glass and moves over to sit on the couch. Hannibal sits down on the other end and turns towards Will, his gaze warm and curious. They both take a sip of the wine and Wills eyes widen at the taste. It's fruity and fresh, sweet but also sharp with something, he can't really describe it, but it's delicious. Foreign pleasure joins his own and he looks up to find Dr. Lecter smiling at him. 

“You like to watch peoples reaction to your food and drinks.” Will states the obvious and Hannibals smile widens. 

“I do enjoy seeing people taking pleasure in the things I made or chose, yes.” his brown eyes sparkle with mischief and Will can't quite grasp the reason for it, but enjoys the lighter side of the usually so distant doctor. “But let's not talk about me. What has your thoughts so occupied? A new case?”

Will hesitates, not really wanting to talk about the new case, but knowing that these sessions were for him to cope with the new side of his job. One precaution Crawford had to take to get the Omega away from teaching and into the field. At least Freddie Lounds hadn't found that out yet, he could already see the discussions of experts on TV, debating the detrimental affects of putting an Omega in such brutal environments. 

“Two Alphas were murdered in their home, looks like a hate-crime.” Will answers and Hannibal tilts his head.

“I didn't know that the FBI takes on those kind of crimes?” 

“We were called in for assistance, it was a pretty bloody scene. The local police wasn't handling it well.” Will explains and leans back while taking another sip of his wine. This was a really comfortable couch. His instinctual side wanted to curl up and rest against it. “It was dull.” slips out as he tries not to let his fingers glide against the soft fabric. 

It catches Hannibals attention though. 

“Will.” he calls out to him and Will looks up, gets caught in that gaze. He's always so careful not to get lost in those dark brown pools, the silence in them is too great a temptation. Hannibals gaze slides over him and the psychiatrist seems to come to a conclusion. “Am I allowed to touch you?” he asks and Will frowns slightly, but nods.

Strong fingers brush his hair out of his face and slide it behind his ears. They make him shiver slightly, it has been a long time anyone touched him with tenderness. He lets himself be pulled against Hannibals chest until his back rests against the doctors front and he is surrounded by his friends long limbs. Beta pheromones fill his senses and he knows there should be an instinctual apprehension, but instead he feels himself relax, instead all of the tension from the last weeks seems to drain away and he feels safe. Will takes a shuddering breath and tries to figure out why his Omegan side decided to take over. 

“It is not healthy to deny yourself physical contact.” Hannibal chides softly, his breath ghosting over the shell of Wills ear. “Despite suppressors, you are an Omega, you have needs of comfort and security, denying those is dangerous.”

There is something underneath the Beta scent, something familiar and soothing. Will frowns at Hannibals words. He knows that, he just hates it a little bit as well.

“I know that.” he murmurs and marvels at the slow, relaxed beating of his heart. “I just don't have anyone.” Hannibal makes a surprised sound. 

“I would have thought you and Alana?”

“No! No, she thinks I'm slightly broken and who can fault her, I probably am. I don't want to be a burden.” 

“There is no other Omega to help?” Hannibal asks softly and glides his hands up and down Wills arms. Will sighs at the sensation and the question. He knows that Omegas socialize a lot, mostly with each other, because who knows your needs better than your own dynamic? But he had always had problems with socializing in any situation.

“They are scared of me.” the hands on his arms stop for a moment, before continuing with their calming rhythm. Hannibal leans his head against Will's and Will can't help but close his eyes in bliss. He feels so centered, the heart-beat against his own, the warmth, the scent surrounding him, he knows that he could sleep without nightmares if he just stays here. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hannibal breathes through the rage. He had suspected, yes, but had he known that Will truly had no-one to turn to for his needs, he would have done something sooner. Foolish Alana for pushing Will away. It was well-known that Omegas needed physical contact to remain stable. If she had wanted to help Will, she should have followed her instincts as an Alpha and reached out towards him, instead of pushing him away. He takes another steadying breath and moves to caress his fingers through Wills locks. The soft texture and the warmth radiating from the other man calms him as well and he barely resists to turn his head and press his lips against the column of Will's neck. 

“Are they right to be scared?” he whispers softly, making sure there's no hint of accusation in his voice, simply curiosity. Will tenses slightly in his arms and Hannibal moves both of his hands back to the other mans arms, soothing the distressed Omega with a less intimate touch. Will sighs, the breath leaving his body with a shudder and Hannibal can almost feel Will's lungs trembling against him. 

He admits to himself that he had been caught of guard all those weeks ago. What had started as a play of curiosity has led him to the discovery that Will was so much more than just a toy for his own amusement. He had watched the Omega, his reactions in public and in private, his resistance to his biological pulls. He had studied the profilers mind as it worked through the information he saw, as he understood the minds and motives of murderers all too well. Will was possibly the only person that was able to understand all of him. Hannibal is not sure yet, what he wants to do about that. But first, some strings to tie them closer together could not hurt.

“Probably.” Will admits softly, drowsily. Hannibal knows that the profiler is about to fall asleep in his arms and he finds himself hesitating. 

“If you are willing, we can spend some of our sessions like this.” Hannibal suggests. “It is proven to be therapeutic, after all.” he forms the last words in an amused drawl and feels Will's chuckle against his chest before he hears it.

“Maybe.” is his answer and it is better than the one he had expected from the prickly Omega. “I should go home.” he continues and Hannibal lets his right thumb slide over Will's collarbone, ignoring the rough texture of his shirt, before he lets go of him and Will moves away with visible difficulty. How the other man could stand to wear such horrible fabrics was beyond Hannibal, but he knew better than to point it out to him. Sometimes he caught himself wanting to show Will all the comforts he could offer an Omega, but then he would put that foolishness out of his mind. It was too dangerous a thought. 

“I will call you a cab, you are in no state to drive out towards your place.” Hannibal stands and goes over to his desk to make the call. When he turns back he catches Will smiling at him with fond eyes and he turns away to frown at the sudden flutter of his heart. Music could do that to him. His sister had been able to – he slams the door towards her room shut and leaves the fortress of his mind to focus on the call he's making. A quarter hour later he closes the door behind Will and finds himself standing inside his office with his hand just over his heart. This was a dangerous game he had started. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

And wasn't that exciting?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *coughing nervously...  
> Hope you liked it :)


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay wow, hadn't really expected that much of a response... You are all insane! And I love you!  
> And because you all guilted me into writing more with the crazy amount of comments and Kudos, here is your second chapter.  
> Enjoy.

Another morning, another crime-scene. Jack Crawford had picked him up from home almost before dawn to take him to a new murder-site. Will lets his gaze roam the room, seeing everything and trying to form a connection that wouldn't burn him. His empathy is a two edged sword and with every killer he has to learn to handle it differently. He doesn't want to get swallowed up in foreign emotions. It had been more and more difficult in the last few weeks. 

There are two bodies on the floor, just like in the last scene. This time though, it is an Alpha-Beta couple. It is a relationship more accepted by society, but still frowned upon. The two women are curled around each other, multiple stab wounds covering the chest and arms. The body of the Alpha is protectively holding onto her partner. Will's gaze slides away, following the blood splatter, the splintered door, the broken lamp and glass-table. So much aggression. So much rage. Will shudders, struggling to remain in control.

The memory of a soothing caress across his collarbone brings him back into his own body and he jolts as he opens his eyes. Hannibal. 

“What do you see, Will?” Crawford asks from the door leading into the living-room and Will looks over to him, clearing his throat before he speaks.

“It's the same person.” he informs his boss. “Whoever killed Miss Drake and Miss Todd, killed the Fischers as well.” Will continues and looks back towards the two women. Miss Todd an expression of pure defiance in death and her Beta partner reaching towards a shard of splintered glass to defend her Alpha. A pang vibrates through his chest and he quickly looks away. 

“So it's not just gays?” Jack asks, his voice gruff and expecting an explanation. Will tries not to sigh and barely succeeds.

“No, this is about the right order of things.” he turns away from the bodies and walks by Crawford, being careful not to brush against the man. “The killer sees these couples as unnatural. They saw Mrs. Fischer and Miss Drake as interlopers in a perfect system. They tried to talk to Miss Todd-” he points towards the signs of struggle in the kitchen. “-but Miss Todd wouldn't listen. Judging from the deeper, more frantic stab wounds on her, I imagine she laughed in their face.” He comes to a stop at the kitchen counter, one hand hovering over a splatter of blood while his gaze drifts until he kneels before a cupboard and he uses a pen from his pocket to ease out a kitchen knife from under it. The CSI's rush forward to bag and tag it and Will stands up, turning back towards Jack Crawford. 

“Is that the murder weapon?” Jack asks and Will shakes his head. 

“No. I imagine you will find Miss Drakes fingerprints on there and probably the blood of our perp.” he looks back towards the living-room and can see Miss Drakes reaching hand from this angle. “They tried to protect each other.” he murmurs more than he says outright, but Jack still nods with understanding. He puts his broad hand on Will's shoulder and the Omega tries not to flinch at the unwelcome touch. Unease stirs in his stomach and he quickly steps out of reach, fiddling with his glasses. 

“Good work, Will.” Jack says as if he didn't notice Will's reaction and Will has to wonder if he really didn't. “I have called Dr. Lecter while you were walking the crime-scene, he should be waiting outside for your next session.” with this Crawford leaves to talk to Beverly over in the corner of the living-room, taking pictures of everything. 

Will is not sure if he is angry at being treated like a child, asked to perform a trick and then given back towards his mother, or if he is thankful for Hannibal to be here. He steps out of the house, the sunlight hitting his eyes almost painfully. He blinks away the sudden glare, shading his face with his left hand, when he sees Hannibal standing besides his car. Their last meeting has been four days ago and Will tries not to blush at the memory, failing miserably. The hint of a smile at the corner of his friends mouth tells him Hannibal noticed as well. He takes the few steps away from the house and comes to a halt in front of his waiting friend. 

Hannibal inclines his head respectfully in greeting, knowing not to offer his hand. 

“It is good to see you, Will.” his voice soothing in Will's ears, the unease in his stomach settling. “I was concerned when Crawford called, but you seem to be well.” Hannibal turns to open the car-door for him and Will's breath catches almost silently as the early morning sun lights up brown eyes, making them shine in shades of maroon, rust and hints of amber. The sight is gone in a second as Hannibal continues to turn, but Will is still left asking himself, why his heart flutters like a bird in his chest. He swallows and berates himself for confused synapses and strange reactions, while he sits down in the car. As soon as the door closes, he takes a long breath and relaxes against the luxurious leather seats. He can't help but let his fingers glide across the soft leather beneath him, making him aware of how scratchy his own clothes are in comparison.

Hannibal gets in besides him and settles into the drivers seat with his usual confidence, throwing a glance towards Will to make sure he had his seat-belt on as well. He did. Will did not want to provoke another discussion about his personal safety. Hannibal stays silent, noticing, as always, Will's need to process his own thoughts. He turns on the radio though and soft flutes fill the space between them as they drive towards Hannibals office. 

Soon the flutes are the only thing drifting through Will's mind as the world rushes by outside.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hannibal enjoys the harmonious drive and smiles as a slight frown creases Will's forehead as the profilers attention catches onto the roads they are traveling. 

“This is not the way to your office.” Will states, throwing him a reproachful stare. 

“Indeed it is not.” Hannibal replies gravely. “As I have gathered from my call with Jack Crawford, you were called in early this morning and haven't eaten yet.” A blush graces Will's skin and a flash of guilt twists at the corner of the Omegas mouth. “And thus, I will invite you to my home for breakfast.”

Will opens his mouth, to protest most likely, so he throws the Omega another look before focusing back towards the road. He sees Will closing his mouth from the corner of his eyes and a feeling of satisfaction spreads through him. 

“I- thank you. I suppose I could eat.” Will admits. Hannibal scoffs at him, drawing a smile from the other man. While he gifts his companion with one of his rarer smiles, he wonders at the gratefulness spreading through his chest, knowing that Will has never experienced the pain of true hunger. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

They eat breakfast at Hannibals kitchen counter, Will watching fascinated as Hannibal slices and mixes and cooks up a deliciously smelling meal for them and he stamps on his Omegan side stirring at the care it perceives is given to him. Some-one to provide. Will shakes his head and takes his first bite after thanking Hannibal for cooking. Brown eyes watch him as the flavor of egg, cheese and meat explode in his mouth, along with accents of different spices he could not begin to name. It tasted even better than it smelled and Will couldn't stop the moan escaping his throat. Embarrassed he looks over at Hannibal, just to see him smile in satisfaction as he takes a bite of his own food. 

“You are truly an excellent cook.” Will compliments his friend. “I can barely make a decent meal out of the fish I catch.”

“Thank you Will.” Hannibals eyes watch him fondly as Will keeps eating. “I am sure you don't give yourself enough credit, though.” 

The rest of breakfast is spent mostly in silence, both of them eating. Hannibal asks after his dogs and Will is glad to share the escapades his bunch of strays has gotten into the last few days. Hannibal puts away the dirty dishes after they're finished and they move into the living-room. Will comes to a halt as Hannibal stops in the middle of the room and turns around towards him. The sun has moved from morning to midday and throws the room into patches of glinting light and dark shadow. 

Will can't help but look up into Hannibals face, trying to avoid his eyes and failing. The calm serenity meeting him is setting his own heart towards a sudden, thunderous beat. What is happening?

“You remember what we talked about in our last meeting?” Hannibal says and Will remembers, eyes widening as he remembers strong arms holding him. Firm hands soothing across his arms, fingertips combing through his hair. He presses his teeth together to stop the whine in his throat from escaping. He swallows once, twice under watchful eyes and then nods. 

“I remember.” he answers hoarsely, his gaze sliding away uncomfortably.

“I want you to feel safe with this, with me.” Will shivers, breathes in the Beta hormones and asks himself why the Omegan side within him is bursting with anticipation. “So this time, you will touch me.”

Surprised eyes look up at Hannibal and Will sees the truth in him. The honesty. “You wont move?” he asks.

“Only if you want me to. You will guide me as you desire.” is the unruffled answer he gets. Will takes a shuddering breath, it feels like his heart is beating in his throat instead of his chest. His gaze slides from Hannibals face towards his shoulders, noticing the dark green fabric with the pale yellow shirt underneath and the glimpse he catches of the lighter green waistcoat. Hannibal is always so colorful, so subtly full of life. His gaze stops at his friends fingers and he slowly reaches out towards them.

“Could you... could you lean slightly into me, wherever I touch you?” his question is barely more than a broken whisper and he gasps softly as his fingertips slide along Hannibals. Hannibal lightly entwines their fingers, not trapping him, just letting him know he is there. Just like he asked.

“I will.” Hannibal breathes into the room, never looking away from him. It's a heady sensation, having that focus on you. He concentrates on the feel of Hannibals skin, the callouses on his fingers, the sensation of his fingertips gliding across the doctors knuckles and the veins on the back of his hand. Will starts to get lost for a moment, his focus on the smooth, expensive fabric beneath his hands and the slight longing to feel that cool and soft cloth on all of his own skin. He comes out of his thoughts when he reaches the collar of the suit and his hand hesitates for a moment, before it settles against warm skin and slides around Hannibals neck, upwards until his fingertips get entangled in short, dark-blond hair. Hannibal leans into the touch of his hand and Will can't help a whine escaping him. 

He knows that his way of living is not healthy. Not as an Omega and probably not even as another of the dynamics. Every human being needs another humans contact, needs reassurance through touch, and with Omegas even more so. He remembers growing up with loving touches, his grand-mother, his dad, the few friends he had. It all changed when first his father, and then shortly after, his grand-mother died. All alone as an Omega, he had to survive. So he started to take suppressors, tried to ignore the suddenly overwhelming flood of emotions not his own and slipped through the cracks. He studied crime under the guise of a Beta dynamic, was revealed an Omega in his last year and fought to at least get the permission to teach. Which was how he had spent the last few years of his life, before Crawford came to him. He didn't socialize. Alphas too aggressive, trying to put his accomplishments down against their own, trying to put him into the comfortable stereotype they imagined Omegas to be like. Betas couldn't care less about him and were wary of him getting special treatment from their Alpha bosses. Omegas... they were either afraid of him or distrustful. Not that he met a lot of Omegas, as most of the ones his age were bonded to an Alpha and tucked away, caring for their children. 

“If this saddens you, we can stop.” Hannibals voice interrupts his downward spiral and Will notices that he has put his head against his friends chest, and that his other hand has slipped around Hannibals waist, pulling him closer. Tears were silently sliding down his cheeks into expensive fabric. For a moment he is horrified, then-

“Could you put your arms around me, please.” he asks instead of stumbling back, his instincts telling him what he needed. Strong arms settle around his sides and back, pressing him even closer, one hand spreading across the small of his back, the other between his shoulder blades. His breath shudders and he closes his eyes. Hannibals heart is a reassuring thunder against his ear and he feels the calm overtake him, the sensation of safety and love. For the first time in years a purr escapes his throat, the Omegan side he so constantly fights against, finally at peace. An intense feeling of pleasure rolls through him and Will gasps, struggling against the almost foreign sensation. 

“Distract me.” he whispers against Hannibals chest. There is a moment of silence, the thumbs of his friend caressing up and down in a small motion on his back, sending pulses of heat through him. 

“We could talk about the case, if you want.” Hannibal says and Will can feel frustration rise within him. 

“The case is nothing special, just a person full of hate against non-classic couples.” he hisses, vicious hate of his own in his voice. “We will catch them soon, they're so sloppy.”

The hand between his shoulder blades travels up along his spine, until skilled fingers comb through his hair, a finger sliding against the shell of his ear, once and again. The rage inside him subsides as if a switch has been turned. 

“The case has upset you.” Hannibal observes. “You haven't been this agitated about it the last time we spoke, what has changed?” Will soaks up the warmth he is surrounded with and tries to figure out a way to put his emotions and thoughts into words. 

“It's just so senseless.” he decides to say. “Destroying someone elses happiness just because they don't fit into your own format of the world.”

“Yes, senseless indeed.” Hannibal agrees, his own voice sounding slightly distracted. Will changes the angle of his head and looks up at his friend. A slight frown creases his forehead and his gaze seems far away.

“Hey.” Will calls him carefully, the hand still on the side of Hannibals neck moving slightly. Hannibals gaze focuses on him again. “Are you okay?”

The touch of a smile reveals itself in the left corner of Hannibals lips as he replies. “I do not think this is about me.”

“Maybe we could make it about you?” Will challenges him. “I barely know anything about you, after all.” 

“You know I was a surgeon, before I became a psychiatrist. You know I like to cook and take pleasure in sharing drink and food with others. I think you know the essentials.” Hannibal answers with amusement.

“You know way more about me though.” Will protests, though doesn't step away from the embrace of Hannibals arms. Hannibal looks at him for a moment and then tilts his head in acknowledgment. 

“What do you want to know then?” he asks and Will thinks for a moment. 

“Where did you grow up?” he decides to asks and wonders at the sudden tension in the arms around him, before they relax again and seem to take comfort from him. 

“Lithuania, during the height of the Soviet Union.” Ice suddenly fills Wills veins and he regrets asking. With the fall of the Soviet Nations much had been revealed, like the attempted and almost successful extermination of every fringe dynamic. Building a nation of equality in everything, apparently had meant to kill of every Alpha and Omega they could find. There had been a wave of outrage spreading throughout the world, equal only to the discovery of the concentration camps from the Second World War. Will couldn't imagine growing up with that fear dominating everything in your life, dreading the day your dynamic would reveal itself. He shifts again, leaning his cheek against Hannibals and tightening his hold on the other man. 

“I'm sorry.” he whispers. He can feel a nod against his cheek and the shuddering breath against the side of his neck. “Did you lose-”

“Everyone.” Hannibal interrupts him, his voice rushed and Will closes his mouth, his teeth clicking. 

“I'm sorry.” he more mouths than actually says, shame filling him for asking. Hannibal leans against him. 

“It's not your fault.” is his reply. 

“I did not want to remind you.” Will tries to comfort his friend. 

“It is long in the past and almost forgotten.” Hannibal says and the fingers in Will's hair play with the ends of his locks. “Let's not dwell on the horrors of long gone times. You wanted to know more about me. What is your next question?” There is amusement in his voice at the end, but Will cannot see it in the expression on his friends face. He thinks for a moment, before he asks a question he is pretty sure he knows the answer of. 

“What is you favorite color?” the look he gets thrown tells him Hannibal knows what he is doing and an honest smile graces Hannibals lips, catching Will's attention, so much so that he almost misses the answer, while he wonders what that smile would taste like. 

“Every color.” Hannibal answers. “Because every color paints every moment of life and captures every facet of emotion. But you knew that.”

“I suspected.” Will smiles against Hannibals chest, carefully not thinking about the lips just within his reach, the body firmly pressed against his. The scent of Hannibal surrounding him like potent alcoholic vapor, dizzying his mind. He tries to concentrate on their banter. “Now I have confirmation.”

They continue to talk for quiet a while and Will learns little things, without big meanings, but still tying them closer together. He feels himself slipping into Omegan instincts and wonders how that is possible while being held by a Beta. Then he pushes that thought away. Hannibal is his friend, a man he has come to trust and who he is comfortable with in every situation. It shouldn't matter that he's a Beta.

The question though is, is Will brave enough to reach out and take what his instincts tell him to make his own?  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hannibal is looking through his box of recipes, trying to find the best meal for what he plans next. The morning with Will had been very pleasurable, even if he hadn't expected to reveal as much as he did. He is prepared for that though, knowing that he had to give, to receive what he wanted. It was strangely easy with Will and he had to be more careful in the future, but for now, everything is coming along just like he wants it to. 

He pulls a card from the box, eyes scanning the required ingredients, even though he knows them by heart. He moves over towards his Rolodex of calling cards.

Time to restock his pantry.  
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, world building....  
> Hope you liked it :)


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pentecost (had to look that word up :D). I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Will opens his eyes and finds himself ankle-deep in cool, running water. He tilts his head and his gaze roams over dark, arching trees, round, wet stones at the far side of the stream and gets caught by the moon, which looms, round and bright just over the top of the trees. White-blue light illuminates the edges of everything and throws shadows, which seem to lead deep into the earth.

Will breathes and takes a step into the deeper water. The cool night air sends a shiver across his naked skin. Another step and another, until the water runs up to his navel and he watches the liquid flow across his hands, the moon is setting him ablaze with light.

Joy bubbles up in his chest and he grins as he let's himself fall into the stream, emerging from the deeper waters a moment later with a soft laugh. He swims a little closer to the shore, when a noise catches his attention. He stands and looks over into the black shadows of the forest. Something stirs within them. Will's eyes widen as a stag emerges, giant and imposing. It's crown glistens obsidian, branching into the night-sky like living trees, while it's gaze is alive with the moon.

Their eyes catch and Will gasps as a sudden heat spreads from his core into his limbs. His breath shortens as his skin seems to tighten with pulses of incredible pleasure. He shivers and moans with it and watches as the stag takes another step forward, revealing its body, made from raven feathers.

His vision dims and then lights up again. Suddenly he is filled with overflowing, sizzling energy and before him in a stream of light and dark, stands a creature of inconceivable beauty. Drops of moonlight cover it's silver skin, dark hair dripping and with eyes glowing and powerful like a thunderstorm. He stares fascinated and realizes that he sees himself.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Will wakes up to the barks of his dogs and groans, knowing somebody is coming, his pack wouldn't have woken him otherwise. Threads of his dream catch onto him and he breathes through the memory of pleasure and power. The remembrance of the stream surrounding him, washing over his heated skin, sends a shiver through him. He shakes himself free and moves out of his bed, washing and dressing quickly.

He can hear a car pulling up outside, as he steps out of his bathroom and makes his way over to his front-door. It's Jack Crawford, who makes his way over to his steps and Will frowns at the unusual hesitance in the Alpha's body-language. The Omegan compulsion to take care of an Alpha rears its ugly head inside him and he kicks it down and away with vicious mental force. Jack is not his problem, at least not in any way that concerns his private life. Even though the Alpha tries to control his life through the arrangements with Hannibal, Will knows that Dr. Lecter does not like Crawford, which defeats the original intention, without Jack knowing it.

Hannibal does not approve of the way Will is treated by Crawford and does not appreciate being treated as a tool to keep the Omegan profiler sane, he has let that shine through in their sessions together. He has also made clear that he does not see Will as just a job. He remembers their last session and turns the rising blush into a frown for Crawford. Who still has not taken the three steps up to his porch. Will sighs and opens his door, his frown deepening with the onslaught of rage, uncertainty and dominance the other man wore like a cheap perfume.

“Is coming to my house at the crack of dawn for a crime-scene going to become a thing?” Will asks, not able to hide the disapproval in his voice. He winces as he feels the rage in the Alpha moving to the fore. He fights against his instincts to bare his neck, to apologize, to ask for forgiveness. He breathes a silent sigh of relief when Crawford finally starts talking and thus, distracts his mind from Omegan responses.

“There is another crime-scene.” he growls and Will tilts his head in question, still reading uncertainty and possibly even fear under the rage.

“I assume it's not the work of our irregular couples killer?” Will more states than asks. Jack shakes his head.

“I believe it's the Chesapeake Ripper.” he says and Will's heart can't help but quicken in his chest. It's been a long time since the Ripper has shown his work and it would be the first time Will would see one with his own eyes, instead of pictures in an attempted case of study, made by lesser men.

“Will I don't know if it is the right thing to ask you to come to the scene.” Jack cautions and Will narrows his eyes. “I already know Alana will have my head for even suggesting it, but I need you there. I will give you a choice with this.” Because he needed his conscious to be clean if Will couldn't handle the scene. If his mind shatters under the onslaught of cruelty and hatred it wouldn't be Jack's fault.

“What is it?” Will asks impatiently.

“He killed an Omega.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hannibal is awoken by his phone ringing. He opens his eyes and rubs at his mouth as he gets out of bed and picks up the phone.

“Dr. Lecter speaking.” he answers, throwing a look at the clock. 5:48.

“Good morning Dr. Lecter, Jack Crawford here.” the agent on the other end of the line says and Hannibal can hear he is driving. As he has just awoken, it takes him a second longer to push aside his loathing of the man and apply the expected cordial tone to his response.

“Agent Crawford, I assume you are calling me because of our mutual friend?” He ignores the feeling of concern that tries to spread in the cavern of his chest. He sits down on his bed and let's his free hand glide across his silk sheets.

“Yes, there has been another murder, an -” here Crawford hesitates and Hannibal waits for the man to find his voice again. He can't help but smile with satisfaction, as he hears the distress in the mans voice and pauses. He is sure not to let the smile show in his voice, though. “-an Omega. It looks like the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“Mmmh.” Hannibal hums, waiting for Crawford to explain why he was calling him for this. “And Will is not handling this well?” he asks, making sure to insert the right amount of professional worry into his voice. He had been relatively sure Will would not be overly affected with his display, at least not in the way most would expect.

“He hasn't seen it yet, we are on our way now. I just wanted you to talk to him first, I want to make sure he really is okay with this.” Making sure he couldn't be held responsible, was more likely, Hannibal thought.

“Of course. Let me talk to him.” Hannibal waits for the phone to be handed to Will in the back of the car and can just imagine the furious expression on the Omegas face, while he was treated like a delicate glass-figurine.

“Good morning, Dr. Lecter.” Will greets him, sounding exactly like Hannibal thought he would. He finds it curious how Will calls him by title and last name when in company, though when alone he calls him Hannibal. He is very pleased with that development. “I am sorry for the early call.” the man apologizes and Hannibal smiles, pleased with the courtesy of his friend.

“I imagine good old Jack had a leading role in this call, so you are forgiven.” he reassures, letting his amusement shine through. He enjoys Will's almost there chuckle and imagines his accompanying smile as he brings the conversation back to the reason of this call. “Will, do you feel prepared for this?” he asks and waits, not expecting to be disappointed, as he has gotten to know the profiler quite well.

“I'm okay. I'm more worried for all the others, really.” Will answers quietly, trying to keep their conversation mostly private from Jack. “I don't think Jack is taking it well, to be honest and I am sure the other Alphas on scene won't be better.” he elaborates in an almost whisper. The smile from before threatens to appear on Hannibals face again, so he turns it into a little frown as he answers carefully.

“It is a great amount of stress on the Alphas instincts to be confronted with what is perceived as failure to protect, especially something considered so precious as an Omega.” he presumably agrees. “But you seem to be handling it well. Maybe we could meet in the evening? I am sure it will calm dear old Jacks mind.” Hannibal gambles and grins when he hears Will chuckle softly.

“Are you cooking?” Will asks boldly and Hannibals heart starts beating faster.

“Nothing else would be good enough.” he replies, inserting the right amount of amusement into his voice to cover the sudden hunger yawning in his chest. Black and hot it seems to suck the breath out of his lungs with a strange longing.

“Then I will see you later.” Will says and Hannibal can hear the nervous shiver in his voice.

“Seven o'clock.”

“I'll be there.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Will ends the call and wonders how he went from pissed off at Jack for his well-meaning, but highly annoying, protectiveness, to being flushed and excited about dinner with Hannibal. He quickly schools his expression as he gives the phone back to Jack, who throws him a quick look and thanks before turning back to watch the traffic as he drives.

“Did you talk to Dr. Lecter?” the man asks distractedly as he navigates through suburban streets.

“Yes, we made an appointment later today.” Will answers and watches the muscles in Jacks neck relax slightly. It was curious how the man had been adamant about Will taking a look at the scene and then, when Will had gladly agreed to take a look, turns around all worried and concerned for Will's well-being. It's the Alpha instincts at work, gaining dominance over the Chesapeake Ripper no matter the cost, going against the innate need to protect the Omega from every harm possible. And with an Omega as the victim, Will knew the man was far from stable.

It doesn't mean he has to like it, though. The oncoming headache from the second-hand mood-swings did not improve his own state of mind. He was not looking forward to arriving at the scene with all the other Alpha investigators in equal distress.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“You seem tired.” Hannibals softly accented voice interrupts his thoughts and Will looks up from the glass of wine in his hand. Dinner had been amazing and had looked as if Hannibal had applied way too much work into a simple meal between friends, but then Will knows that he always seems to cook like that. After dinner, where they had exchanged few words, they had reconvened in the living-room and Hannibal had pressed a cool glass of rosé-wine into his hand.

“I am tired.” Will admits, his voice a note of regret. “I’m sorry I’m not better company, but the day seems to be catching up with me.” he smiles ruefully, his eyes glancing across Hannibals left shoulder. He catches his friends thoughtful expression from the corner of his eye and doesn’t dare to meet his gaze. Sometimes, with Hannibal, he was not afraid of what he would see in those maroon eyes. Sometimes, he was afraid of what Hannibal would see in his own blue gaze. Hannibal gestures to Wills side in question and after a moment of hesitation, Will nods. 

Hannibal gracefully sits down besides him and Will wonders, as so often, about the disparity that is his friend. A Beta who at times holds himself like an Alpha and moves with the finesse of an Omega, a feat Will had trained himself out of years ago, when trying to live as a Beta while in College. A Beta who at times dominates the room like an Alpha and then acquiesces like an Omega, only to disappear into the background like the Beta he is. All those facets are confusing and Will honestly is too exhausted to linger on these thoughts for very long. 

He shifts slightly, so that their sides lean against each other and then rests his head on Hannibals shoulder. 

“Is that okay?” he asks and closes his eyes as he feels Hannibal relax besides him. 

“Yes.” the man answers softly. “It is.”

There is a moment of silence that stretches between them, warmth shared and breaths syncing up. 

“Do you want to talk about what you saw?” Hannibal murmurs into his hair and Will can’t suppress the shudder running through him. Did he want to talk about it?

“I had to send the whole team down the street.” he starts, because he didn’t want to think about what followed next, yet. Hannibal makes a questioning sound in his throat and Will opens his eyes for a moment to reach out towards the hand closest to him, sliding his fingertips over dry, warm skin before boldly entwining their hands. 

“The Alphas were-” he searches for the right word. “frantic, all that anger, confusion and helplessness gave me a migraine.” Will sighs and Hannibal hums, like he knew exactly what Will was talking about.

“The scene itself was-” how could he say this without sounding insane? Screw it, he knows Hannibal doesn't care. At least he hopes he doesn't. “astonishingly beautiful.” For a moment Hannibal stills, before relaxing a fraction more against him. Will wonders if that was fear or surprise. He hopes for surprise.

“How so?” his friend asks and all Will can hear is genuine curiosity, so he too relaxes a little more. Hannibals thumb has started to glide across the back of his hand and the rhythm of back and forth sensation hypnotizes him. A pendulum of warmth and care, instead of the cold light that swings before his eyes at crime-scenes.

“First off, the victim was not an Omega.” Will breathes, not able to hide the wonder for the Ripper managing that illusion. “His name was Frank Bruge and he was a Beta. Autopsy and background check confirmed my observations.” he continues. The body had been split down the middle, up to the throat. The face had been cut until it was unrecognizable and the inner organs had been, well they had found the victims heart, minced in his stomach and his lungs cut into ribbons. All of it had been saturated with Omega hormones. The blood soaking everything had been steaming with the sweet scent. 

“He had a sister, she is an Omega, who has been rejected by Alphas in favor of other dynamics four times.” Will continues and feels the revelation in the warm body besides him. 

“You mean?“ Hannibal begins, his accent more pronounced in the late hour and their relaxed cuddle. “Your victim is actually - “

“The irregular couples killer, yes.” Will reveals, not quite able to hide his happiness about that. “Jack was so pissed when they put it together. Concluded that it is our copycat killer raising the stakes and not the Chesapeake Ripper. He threw an impressive tantrum.” he continues, wincing at the memory of the Alpha losing his temper, his Omegan instincts cowering and sending out confusing responses. Pity and disgust at the display of weakness, of losing against a murderer. Pride in being part of bringing the man down a peg through his observations and strangely, a feeling of commiseration with the killer. 

“You said he concluded that it wasn't the Chesapeake Ripper. What do you think?” Hannibal asks, a hidden note of expectancy in his tone. 

Will thinks back to the crime scene and his cold pendulum. To the clinical care he felt while inhabiting the killers mind and the clear, dispassionate pride in his work. It was definitely the copycat killer that had been strangely helpful in some of his cases in the past months. But this time it was more. Like he was specifically talking to Will. Like a gift. There had been an instant in his observations when he was overwhelmed with humor, as strange as that had seemed. Looking back at it now, Will is sure he is right. 

“I think our copycat killer and the Chesapeake Ripper are one and the same person.” The hand grasping his own stills and for a moment Will thinks that Hannibal is disagreeing with him, but then the other man shifts slightly and his lips brush against Wills hair in a soft kiss. 

“Doesn't that scare you?” Hannibal asks and Will admits that he should be scared. But his instincts are flaring up inside him with joy. His Omegan side glowing with approval of the strength and intelligence shown. 

“I’m not afraid.” Will answers, a yawn escaping from his lips. “I should go home.” he continues as he feels his limbs grow heavy with sleep.

“You should stay here.” Hannibal disagrees and helps him stand. “I have a guest-room and you are welcome to it.” There is a moment of hesitation and then the profiler nods, coaxing a true smile from his friend. 

“Let me send a quick text to Judy, for the dogs.” He sends a text, getting a quick reply with a winky face. He shakes his head and puts the phone back into his bag. Then he follows Hannibal towards the guest-room finding a light-colored room with a bed that’s probably five times more expensive than his own and sheets made from high-count cotton. 

“The bathroom is the door across. I’ll bring you clothes for sleeping.” Hannibal informs him, before leaving him to get ready for bed. He has just finished brushing his teeth and is back in the guest-room when there is a short knock and Hannibal enters with a bundle of pajamas. He himself is dressed in nothing more than dark-blue pajama-bottoms, catching Wills gaze on naked skin, covering lean muscles, interspersed with one or two scars. He sets the clothes down on the bed and steps over towards Will, lifting his hand slowly towards Wills face, giving the profiler time to stop him. 

Wills breath catches as his head is tilted up and slightly chapped lips brush his own. Once, twice, until his lungs seem full of Hannibals scent and he forgets to breathe. With a last lingering press of lips Hannibal steps back, maroon eyes gleaming in the soft light from the lamp on the nightstand.

“Good night.” Fingertips brush his neck as Hannibal turns to leave and Will shivers, but can’t speak. He watches as the door closes and then, finally he is able to breathe again, gasps that seem to fill his lungs to the brim with life. Heat is pooling in his abdomen and he can feel the first signs of slickness between his legs. Did that just happen? He wanted it, he still wants more, but…

His gaze shifts over towards the closed door. His mind goes back to the expectations of society. Of what people would think about Hannibal, if the Beta started an affair, or even a relationship with an Omega. It would most likely ruin him. While Alpha relationships with other Alphas or Betas are accepted, even though not very common or encouraged, Omegas bonding with any other dynamic than Alphas is practically unheard of. In most countries even illegal. Unnatural.

Will couldn’t deny the beating of his heart, though. Or the shiver in his breath. The comfort of Hannibals touch and the excitement sparking in his blood, every time the other man smiled or even laughed. 

He takes a step backwards, away from the door. Time, he needed more time. A little bit more to clear his head and make up his mind.

Will changes into the silk pajama bottoms, opting to sleep without the top. He sighs happily as his hands glide over the fabric, practically purring at the cool softness against his skin. 

He falls asleep with his fingers brushing his lips, wondering if they would still be tingling in the morning. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some introspection and a new case.  
> I just watched a Hannibal/Will video on youtube that made me cry, so I finally finished up this chapter :)  
> There will be mentions of nonconsensual sex/rape in this chapter, nothing concerning Hannibal or Will, of course, but just so you're warned.

Hannibal is standing in the door to his guest-room, watching Will sleep from a distance. The profiler is curled up in blankets, but his expression is serene. Peaceful. It has been a long time since something could quicken the beating of Hannibals heart. Thinking back to their brushing of lips, Hannibal wonders that even the memory of it can bring his heart out of its steady rhythm. What a peculiar reaction, just because of this Omega. 

He shouldn’t have kissed him. It was too much, too fast. Oh, but he couldn’t stop himself. Will had been so good, had looked so entranced while talking about the crime-scene, while analyzing the murderer. He awoke long buried instincts in Hannibal and the doctor couldn’t help but enjoy the thrill of it. 

Will shifts in his sleep and Hannibal steps back and closes the door. He turns towards the kitchen, while brushing the edge of his lips with his right thumb. Starting to flow into the familiar motions of preparing breakfast, Hannibal wanders the palace of his mind, lingering in the entrances of the rooms that are now inhabited by Will. He does not enter them either, not yet. Not when he risks getting lost, while the man himself is in his house. Not while he is unsure on how to proceed. 

He is on unfamiliar ground. There are people in the world, that know parts of him, that accept parts of him. But Will, he could be the person to know all of him. To accept all of him. And Hannibal wants the same from him. Wants to know every part of Will, wants to experience this perplexing bond forming between them, wants to cherish him and be cherished in return. He wants so many things and he can’t have them just yet. The profiler is too skittish, too afraid. 

If only he would realize the power he holds, as a man in his position and as an Omega. It will take time. Hannibal would have to be patient. Normally that had never been a problem. But as yesterday evening had proven, not when it concerned a certain Omega. At least Will hadn’t run away yet. That was a good sign and maybe, Hannibal could just slightly accelerate the pace.

But not too much. Will would still feel guilty. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Will!” he stops on his way out of the lecture hall and turns towards Alana, who had called for him. The Alpha walks towards him with sure strides and her eyes are filled with concern. She probably found out about him looking at the murder-scene of the presumed Omega. “Will, I always seem to miss you today.” she says with a smile. Will tries to return the smile, but feels that it comes out crooked. Her Alpha hormones are subtle, but as soon as she comes to a halt in front of him he is surrounded with her scent and trying to ignore her confrontational stance. 

“Did you want to talk?” he asks, not really wanting to talk to her. He’d rather go home to see his dogs. Relax and think. He bites his bottom lip as it begins to tingle with an unbidden memory. 

“Yes, I heard what Crawford demanded of you yesterday. I can’t believe this man!” she continues to complain about the other Alpha and Will shrugs and waves away her concerns, not meeting her eyes. He can see her eyes narrow as she studies him, though. 

“I was just worried, because I couldn’t reach you on your phone yesterday evening.” she elaborates and his heart starts to beat faster. 

“I wasn’t home, I stayed with a friend.” he explains quickly and the surprise on her face is almost insulting. 

“Oh.” Alana falters slightly. “Of course.” she nods to herself. “I’m glad you have someone to help you through all this horrible stuff you have to see.” Will can’t pinpoint if she is disappointed or genuinely relieved that the friend isn’t her.

“Well, for that I have Dr. Lecter, haven’t I?” he says jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Alana seems to take it seriously though, as her eyes harden.

“Yes, you have.” she focusses on him again. Then a smile spreads on her lips and mischief glows in her eyes. “But tell me about your friend. There’s a slightly different scent around you, is that them?”

Will stutters slightly, excusing himself from her. He has to get back to his dogs, not having been there for them for almost two days. She looks as if she was thinking about pressing the issue and Will was already bracing against his instincts to follow an Alpha command, when Alanas stance seems to deflate a little and she nods. 

“That’s okay. Maybe another time?” she asks and Will nods not meeting her eyes. 

“Yeah, another time.” he lies and quickly makes his way out of the building and towards his car. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Coming home, he feels grounded. The dogs run up towards him, their tails wagging and barking with joy. Will can't help but smile at his stupid pack. He rubs their heads and ears, grinning just as stupidly as them. He feeds them their favorite for dinner, apologizing that he hadn't been there the last two days. 

After that he settles down on his porch and enjoys the last of the sun, while drinking a whiskey and thinking. 

First he goes and searches within himself, how does he feel? Happy is the first thing that comes to his mind. And when he looks closer at that almost unfamiliar emotion, Hannibals face, his warmth and restraint smile fills the inner space of his heart. His thoughts immediately drift towards the man. 

He notices his heartbeat picking up its pace as his thoughts drift through his memories of Hannibal. Goosebumps shiver along his skin and heat spreads throughout his body, starting in the center of him and crawling its way through his muscles and bones. It's not the painful ache of an actual Heat, where despair and need destroy the mind and all of his control, but the shivering, pleasurable heat of comfort and want. 

He wants Hannibal, he doesn't necessarily need him. But he wants him and he never wants to stop wanting him. He shakes his head at himself and a crooked smile stretches across his lips. Doesn't mean that he can have him, though. 

A trembling breath escapes him and Will rubs at his face. This is stupid. There is a reason he throws away the monthly letters from the Omega Agency. He is not relationship material. Who would want a broken Omega, anyways? Will sighs and the fingers of his right hand linger on his lips. 

Hannibal had kissed him. They hadn’t talked about it during breakfast and then Will had left for work. It hadn’t just been a fleeting kiss. It had lingered, their lips had brushed again and again and just thinking about it, Wills breath catches in his throat. The memory of Hannibals scent envelopes him and he shivers with anticipation. He wants to kiss him now. 

He takes another sip from his glass instead, the liquid is sharp on his tongue and smoky at the back of his mouth. Its fire travels through his chest until it joins the heat in his center. His gaze travels over the field towards the edge of the forest, where the last rays of sunshine barely reach and most of his dogs are fooling around. 

He shouldn’t want to kiss Hannibal. There should be an instinctive revulsion towards the Beta. But who was he to judge that? Most of the time his mind was repulsed even by Alphas, and he had to fight with every inch of his soul to keep his instinctive, bodily reactions under control. Most Alphas, most Betas too, looked at him like a piece of meat or a work of art. Something to covet, something to possess, something to own and mold and break until it's perfect for their own uses. He can see it in their gazes, in the flickers of emotions shining through. 

It’s their instincts talking. The Alphas. Even Alana has trouble to reign in her dominating nature sometimes. She at least tries and succeeds most of the time. 

Will shifts and takes the last sip from the glass, putting it on the windowsill for now as he leans back on the small bench. Clara, the smallest and second oldest in the pack, has made herself comfortable on the other end of it and he reaches out to scratch her head and neck. She licks his fingers once in thanks and goes back to dozing as he continues to run his fingers through her fur. 

But he does want to kiss Hannibal. Despite the stigma it would put on himself, on Hannibal, despite the risk to both their jobs and Hannibals social standing, he wants to. 

Does Hannibal want that though? Will sighs again. 

If only he could read the man like all the criminals he can so easily get a read on. All except the Chesapeake Ripper, that is. In that regard the two are quite alike. All Will had been able to read from the crime scene had been calm, pride and calculation with that one glimpse of amusement. It’s the same with Hannibal. There’s an enviable serenity about the Doctor, with the occasional glimpse of emotions. 

Will shakes his head. He doesn’t believe Hannibal would appreciate being compared with a serial killer. Even if it was the most brilliant and artistic one. 

And there’s more to him than that anyways. The man is also passionate about cooking and music, art in whatever form. He has a stupid sense of humor that pulls a small smile to Wills lips even just thinking about it. He is concerned and he cares about Will. He tries to be subtle, but Will can see right through it. And isn’t that the answer right there?

He can’t just assume things, though. Not with this. Not when it risks so much. This is useless. He’s just drifting in circles right now and he knows as soon as he is in Hannibals presence, he’ll be too afraid to ask. 

“He kissed _me_ , though.” Will whispers. “ _He_ kissed me.” He shouldn’t be afraid, not when the odds seem to be in his favor. Next time they were alone with each other, he would bring it up. The kiss, whatever it was that was developing between them, they would talk about it. They were both adults. That should be possible, right?

Will stands and rubs at the stubble on his jaw. Yeah, right.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I kissed Will.” Hannibal states calmly and does not show the pleasure that rolls through him as he sees Bedelias reaction. She is such a wonderfully composed woman most of the time, so he enjoys every time he can make her uncomfortable. Her eyes widen slightly and she can't quite stop the catch of her breath. 

She quickly puts herself together, though and continues their session. 

“Is that wise?” she asks in that calculated way of hers. 

“I have to admit that I wasn’t thinking about any consequences when I kissed him. I just wanted to and then I did.” Bedelia has stopped breathing at that casual reply. He knows he is behaving out of character. She can’t fit this into her perfect little picture of him. Too reckless to fit her theory of his person suit. She takes a breath and her gaze drifts away from him. 

“A great risk, for your job and for your personal life.” she cautions. Her gaze drifts back towards him, shortly flickers to where an almost forgotten scar is hidden by expensive clothing and then meets his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to reach for something you could’ve had, if not for what you had to do to yourself?”

It is a cheap blow, a petty use of his past against him and he had expected her to be a better woman than that. She is probably trying to get back at him for pushing her out of her comfort zone with the start of this conversation. It would’ve had a better effect if he hadn’t thought of that himself, though. Of course had he questioned his attraction to Will, had tried to find his motives and in the end could only say what it wasn’t. The fingertips of his left hand drift across his abdomen and he knows she catches the movement. The could have beens of his past are not a part of his attractions to Will.

“Whatever would have been different-” he begins and his thoughts can’t help but drift back to that night. When he cut into himself, when he cut everything out that would have made him different. Not a lot of people know of course, and less of them are even still alive. Bedelia knows what he did, though she never found out what he should have been. If he cut out the developing onsets of an Omegan uterus or the first stages of growing Alpha glands. That was one thing only he ever knew. “-doesn’t matter. It hasn’t mattered in years. This development with Will is not something so simple.”

She seems scared now. She certainly hides it well, but he can always tell. She doesn’t have to be afraid, not as long as she keeps his trust. Bedelia swallows and looks away. 

“Not a fleeting attraction, then?” she asks, seemingly calm. Hannibal smiles at her, reassuring her. 

“No. It’s the strangest thing.” he admits and looks away as well. “I want him to be happy. Preferably with me.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Will is called to come in a few days later. Crawford sounds rough, exhausted and still angry. Will sighs after ending the call and texts his neighbor Judy, while feeding the dogs and letting them out to run. She’s been earning good money while sitting his dogs in the last few months.

He pulls up to the BAU just as Hannibals car does as well and Will wonders why the doctor has been called as well. His heart flutters as they meet up at the entrance and he nods at Hannibal with a small smile. 

“Good morning, Will.” his friend greets him and holds the door open for him. “I would have liked our next meeting to be under better circumstances.”

“Good morning.” Will replies his eyes not able to look at Hannibals. He frowns slightly. “Did Jack tell you what this is about? He didn’t say anything on the phone.”

“No, but given that we both were called, I assume something unpleasant has happened.” Hannibal replies casually. They start to move towards Jacks office, both of them keeping a professional distance to each other. There seems to be a commotion of CSI’s to the side of the foyer, but they ignore it in favour of reaching Jacks office. Wills fingers nervously glide over the rough fabric of his shirt and can’t help but glance at Hannibals suit.

They arrive at the office just to be greeted with the piercing cries of an infant. A baby, to be exact. Will blinks as he takes in the picture of a desperate looking Jack handling a screaming bundle with frightened care. He is currently trying to hold a baby-bottle to its tiny mouth, but it just cries around the plastic teat. Beverly, Brian and Jimmy are standing in the corner of the bureau, looking as if the baby could explode any minute now and all four of them wince as the cries reach a new height. 

Will does not believe they have even noticed Hannibal and him had arrived, but then Hannibal steps forward and reaches for the child. Jack startles a bit, but hands the baby over with a relieved expression. Hannibal takes the bundle with careful, but sure hands, pushes the blankets out of the babies face and starts to hum as he keeps stroking his fingertip down the childs forehead and nose. Immediately the baby calms and after a few hiccups seems to falls asleep. 

The four Agents in the room sigh a breath of relief, while Will has to force himself to keep breathing, as his Omegan side tries to overwhelm him and his attraction towards Hannibal skyrockets. The presence of the baby is not helping, as he mentally kicks his instincts into submission. That is not his child. He is not responsible for it, he does not need to protect it. And Hannibals competence with children is in no way appealing to his Omegan instincts. 

Gladly Jack interrupts his internal struggles and is a welcome distraction. 

“Thank you, Doctor.” the head of the BAU almost whispers, probably so as not to disturb the child. 

“No problem at all, Agent Crawford, though I don’t believe you called us here because of this little angel.” he replies, his gaze soft as he looks at the child. And now that he said it Will can smell her as well, her scent still tainted with blood and the unmistakable smell of newborn babies. 

“The baby is part of why I called both of you here, actually.” Jack admits and beckons all of them to sit down. Hannibal remains standing, slowly walking up and down the room, the infant finally sleeping. After they have settled as good as they can, Jack starts to explain what happened. 

“Last night a teenaged girl arrived at our doorsteps, pregnant and in tears. She told us this was not her child, it was forced on her. She was frantic and in pain.” he begins. “She kept repeating that she didn’t want the baby and then-” he pauses and throws a glance towards the bundle in Hannibals arms. “I don’t know how, but she got a hold of Agent Taylors gun and shot herself in the head.”

“You cut the child out of her.” Will assesses thoughtfully, after a moment of silence and finds all their pale faces. He looks up at Hannibal, who finds his gaze and Will can’t for the life of him read what he is thinking. “She was an Omega.” he furthermore states and watches Jack and the three CSI’s flinch. “Why are we here then?”

“Because we ran the mothers and the babies DNA and found something disturbing.” Jack answers Wills question and stands to turn away from them. Will looks at Beverly, but it is Brian who answers. 

“There are three more babies from suicidal teenagers, all Omegas, in the last two years, all across the states and though one half of their DNA matches with their birthing parent, the other half belongs to the same person.” the pathologist says, his voice filled with clear disgust. 

Will goes cold at the implication. 

“And as we can assume that not all victims killed themselves or stepped forward, there are likely to be more Omegas out there who gave birth to children with that same DNA.” Beverly continues quietly, her whole stance subdued. Wills gaze falls on the baby and asks himself how many siblings were out there. 

“Whoever it is takes advantage of the Heat.” Will states, shivering slightly. Hannibal stops behind him, but doesn’t touch and Will notices that his breathing eases with the Doctors presence. He doesn’t want anyone touching him right now, but the proximity calms him more than anything else could have done. Sometimes he wonders how Hannibal seems to know all this. But then he remembers that his friend is the top psychiatrist for high-society Omegas. 

“Most likely.” Jack agrees and turns around towards Will and Hannibal. “That’s why I need both of your help. We need you, Doctor Lecter, to handle the victims that are still alive, as soon as we broadcast our search for the culprit, hopefully we’ll get some of them to step forward.” his gaze lands on Will. “And I need you to find this son of a bitch.” he almost snarls as he turns away again, his Alpha hormones flaring in suppressed anger. Will narrows his eyes and looks up towards the baby-girl sleeping in Hannibals arms. He looks at the bundle of innocence and sees her mother struggling against a foreign touch, while also straining for it in Heat. He feels possessive enjoyment that is not his own and feels disgusted as he shakes himself free of it. He turns around and reaches back, finding Hannibals fingers entwining with his, grounding him in his own mind.

“I will.” he states, his voice a fact. And should he find them first....

The hand in his squeezes slightly. Yes.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it :)


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it really been five months? God, time flies when you help your flat-mate to move out and then renovate your flat and work your butt off to buy new furniture because she took half of it :) I'm still missing a few pieces... :D  
> But enough of me and my excuses. Have a new chapter instead! Enjoy!

As the Agents around him prepare themselves for an impromptu press conference, Hannibal is waiting, with the baby still in his arms, in one of the quieter offices. The grandparents had been notified a few hours ago and would arrive shortly. The teenaged Omega, Kaley Mills, had apparently traveled two states to get here and make her very loud statement. 

Hannibal looks down into the face of the baby-girl, one finger caressing the smooth down of hair at the top of her head, feeling the pulse of strong veins along the still soft skull. She scrunches up her nose, but quickly settles and keeps on sleeping. So vulnerable. She would lead a hard life. Growing up feeling responsible for her mothers death, when she eventually finds out. She will either break or grow stronger. 

He hums soothingly as the baby stirs, continuing to walk up and down the room. 

Will has left with Agents Katz, Price and Zeller to take a look at the evidence, while Crawford has taken command of his flock of Agents to round up the press for a statement and for a call towards other victims to step forward. It will be an enormous mess to separate the victims of the serial rapist from cases not related to this. 

Loud footsteps pull him from his thoughts and he looks up just in time to see a young man stumble into the room. If the devastation on his face and in his body language hadn't tipped Hannibal off, the resemblance to Kaley would have. A brother. The young man, barely in his twenties, stares at the baby with a heart broken, before he looks up at Hannibal. 

“I’m sorry for bursting in like this, I just…” he whispers and rubs his right hand over his eyes, breathing slowly. “I’m Ethan Mills, Kaleys brother.” he introduces himself, lowering his hand. Beta pheromones reach Hannibal, along with the scent of tears and sweat. 

“I can see that.” Hannibal answers, his voice warm. “Nevertheless, I do need some identification.” 

“Yes, yes of course.” Mills fumbles for his wallet to pull out his drivers license. Hannibal studies it shortly and nods. 

“Thank you. I am sorry for your loss.” he says and sees Mills swallow back more tears. The young man jerks his head with a nod. His eyes are on the baby again. “Do you want to hold her?” Hannibal asks gently, subtly scenting the air. Beta pheromones, with a hint of something else,underlying and barely even there. 

“Yes-” Mills rushes out but hesitates. “But maybe not, I don't know - I don't want to hurt her.” Fear fighting with instincts, Hannibal observes, though the grief is aggravating the situation further. He puts on one of his encouraging smiles and carefully holds her out, helping Mills getting a good hold of her. 

“There, all good.” 

Mills stares down at the sleeping baby in his arms with an unreadable expression. 

“I can't believe she’s dead. She should have come to me, not stayed with mom and dad, if she’d only come to me…” Mills murmurs. 

Hannibal watches as Will steps into the room behind Mills but doesn't acknowledge him, Will remains unnoticed by Mills, whose focus seems to be far away. 

“Are your parents very strict?” Hannibal asks softly. The young man startles slightly and his lips grimace shortly. 

“My parents… are very conservative. They are strict in their opinions.” Mills hesitantly admits. 

“Is that why you moved out? Because they are uncomfortable with your differentiation? Was it cancer?” Mills looks up shocked and impressed. 

“How do you know that? Almost nobody ever notices.” he asks, his arms and upper body swaying slightly to sooth the baby. Will frowns in the background, but Hannibal focuses on the young man in front of him. 

“I have a very sensitive nose.” he replies light heartedly. It earns him a small confused smile and an almost shrug. Mills catches himself though and the baby in his arms stirs slightly, bringing his focus back to her.

“No, not cancer, allergic reaction actually. As soon as my glands developed and started to flood me with Alpha hormones, I went into anaphylactic shock. My parents almost lost me on the way to the hospital.” he shoots a look at Hannibal and finally notices Will. Mills straightens, curling his arms more protectively around his niece. 

“Will, this is Ethan Mills, the victims brother.” Hannibal introduces them. “Mr. Mills, this is Will Graham, he will help investigate the case with the FBI.” There is an awkward shuffle of acknowledgment from both men and Hannibal has to suppress one of his real smiles pushing through. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The parents arrive shortly after, both of them stoic and seemingly cold. Will watches as Ethan Mills shelters his niece from their gaze as they talk to Crawford and wonders at the young man. To him, he seems a Beta through and through. His scent, his stance, his behaviour, all typically Beta. But if he tilts his head, he could see where the Alpha would have shown, if they hadn’t removed the glands as soon as they started to develop. A curious thing. Of course he knew that Betas like this existed, illnesses and accidents do happen occasionally, it’s just exceedingly rare. 

“They don’t seem very upset.” he murmurs to Hannibal besides him, as they stand to the side of the interview. Hannibal shifts slightly, leaning more towards him, without touching him. 

“They are.” he murmurs back. “But they are also proud and will not show their hurt publicly.” Will throws him a glance and then turns back, trying to see what he missed. There are lines of tension around Vanessa and Terrence Mills eyes, her hands do tremble just slightly and his breath seems to be short on some exhales. It is obvious now that he is looking and he wonders if he didn’t want to see it before. The fact that he hadn’t been in a room together with another Omega for years, might have something to do with it. 

There she is, only five years older than him, according to the files, with seven children, her oldest being Ethan Mills at twenty-one and married to an Alpha. The perfect Omega. And here he is, unbonded, without children and falling in love with a Beta. It’s like looking into a very twisted mirror. A mirror he doesn’t want to look too closely into. 

The interview finishes and the family is escorted into another office by an agent of the CPS managing all the paperwork for the baby. Wills gaze lingers on the child for a moment as they leave the room, but forces himself to look away before the door closes behind them. 

They discuss the case for another few hours, going through the findings of the autopsy, what tests have been ordered and waiting for word back from the hospitals on the ID of the other babies. The press is handled and they talk shortly with the agents handling the phone lines. After that, they say their goodbyes and make their way home. Tomorrow they would have more details, more information to deal with, more interviews and the actual crime-scenes to look at. For now, there was nothing much more they could do. 

Hannibal walks him to his car and Will is trying not to feel enchanted by it, because he knows with anyone else he would be annoyed. 

“Do you think she will be okay?” Will asks his friend, even though he knows the answer. The look Hannibal gives him tells him that he knows it as well. 

“It depends how they handle it, how she finds out what happened to her mother. She will either be stronger for it or not.” the gaze meeting Wills softens as he continues. “It is none of our concern, though is it? She will be raised by her grandparents, even if she would probably fare better with her uncle.” he adds in almost a whisper. 

Will frowns as he thinks about that and can't help but agree. “She would probably need the more centered attention, yes. But we both know the grandparents will get custody of her.”

There is a moment of silence between them and Will becomes exceedingly aware of the fact that they are alone in the parking lot and that Hannibal is standing very close. He looks up and finally meets his maroon eyes, which always seem to bind him in place. 

“Do you want to have children, Will? Someday?” Hannibal asks calmly and Will flusters. 

“Yes… No, actually…” he shifts and his hand reaches out to Hannibals. It is met halfway and their fingers thread together. “Yes, someday I would like to have children.” 

Hannibal hums and Wills heart threatens to beat its way up his throat. 

“Me too, someday.” Hannibal comments and Will can't help it, his gaze falling to thin, softly smiling lips. 

“You kissed me.” he says and doesn't help his panicking heart to calm down. 

“I did.” Hannibal admits easily. His gaze still focused on Wills, even though he doesn't meet it. Will wants to ask why, wants to ask what it meant, wants to ask all the questions he thought up on his porch with a glass of whiskey. What comes out of his mouth is something else entirely. 

“Kiss me again?”

He meets Hannibal halfway, their lips clashing slightly with the collision and Will can't help but moan as strong fingers thread through his hair and tilt his head to fit their mouths at a different angle. His own hands cling to Hannibals shoulders as their tongues invade the others mouth and teeth tease each others lips. His heartbeat changes from panicked to excited and his blood heats up with every expert stroke of Hannibals tongue against his. He bites a little more sharply at Hannibals bottom lip and shudders with pleasure as it elicits a deep throated moan from the man. Their bodies align perfectly. 

In the distance a door opens and the clatter of it drives them apart. Trembling hand on his swollen mouth, Will looks over Hannibals shoulder and sees one of the agents go around the corner to his car. He sighs in relief, nobody saw. 

He looks back at Hannibal and almost gasps at the intensity of his gaze. He watches, fascinated, as the other man seems to breathe in and out and all the focus and passion softens and fades until only a dim glow of it remains. Will lowers his hand and a frown settles across his brows, as he realizes that he doesn’t want it to fade. That focus and intensity should always be on him. 

“What -” Will begins and clears his throat to continue as the words seem to get stuck on their way out. “What do you want from me, Hannibal?” he asks, voice raspy. Hannibal shifts, his stance seemingly taller and his shoulders broader. Something dark and hungry enters dark brown eyes and Will can’t help but let their gazes meet again. There is something in Hannibals eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. 

“I want you to _see_ me.” he answers. “I want you to see all of me and not turn away.” Hannibal presses his lips together as if he wanted to say more, but they are in a parking-lot in front of the FBI. This is not the place for this conversation and they both know it. Another clatter of the door in the distance breaks the silence between them and Will nods and looks away. Hannibal steps away, taking the warmth between them with him and causing Will to shiver slightly in the cool evening air. 

“Have a good night, Will.” Hannibal bids farewell and starts to make his way towards his own car. 

“Good night, Hannibal.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hannibal closes the door behind himself and enters the hallway to his home. He hangs up his coat, brushing out any wrinkles before turning further into the house and loosening his tie. He breathes deeply and tries not to let his fingers shake too much. He comes to a halt in his living room and for a moment stands perfectly still. Then another deep breath. 

A serial rapist targeting young Omegas in Heat. This is one of the most despicable behaviours. Something he cannot tolerate. That poor young girl, driven to suicide by a vile predator and the ignorance of her parents. 

He is not going to lose control. He opens the first two buttons of his shirt, trying to relax, trying to open up his chest, trying to keep breathing calmly, deeply. This is not something that can compromise him. 

The viridian, decorative bowl that had been standing on the living room table meets its end in a resounding crash on the wall first. It shatters into a hundred pieces, which tumble and slide over the floor with clinking and scratching sounds. Finally, his breathing seems easier. A vase made from dark red crystal follows it and its shards glitter like rubies as it explodes against the wall. The sound alone satisfies his rage, the imagery catching his interest. 

Sexual intercourse with an Omega in Heat without expressive prior consent had been declared sexual assault only forty years ago. Before that it had been considered _help_. His thoughts drift towards the girl again, towards the unknown number of Omegas out there, victim to the same vile person, towards Will. 

Another vase. Then a decorative plate. 

His hands are shaking in earnest now and his breath is ragged, but he feels better. He regards the pile of shards with curiosity and clenches his hands into fists. 

He turns around and makes his way into his kitchen, his shoulders relaxing as he moves into the familiar motions of preparing a meal. As the edge of the knife separates meat from bone, he turns his thoughts towards Will again. Not their interactions on the case, but their encounter in the parking-lot. 

The kiss.

He slips and hisses as a drop of blood wells up on the side of his thumb. He chuckles softly and licks it away, the salt and iron flavour exploding in his mouth. The cut is shallow, it doesn’t bleed again. He regrips the knife and continues. 

His lips tingle in memory. He imagines Wills own brushing against them and can’t help but grin widely. The kiss had been glorious. Over far too quickly and definitely not the right time, but oh, he did revel in it. It had shut down his mind for a moment, which would explain why he had answered Wills question so honestly. Why he had barely stopped himself from saying more, from saying too much. 

If only Will knew what he did to Hannibal. 

A frown replaces a fond smile and Hannibal lays down the knife and steps away from the cutting board. 

Does Will have too much power over him? Was Hannibal losing control? He looks down towards his hands, where rolled up sleeves reveal pale wrists. He turns them slightly so he can watch blue veins under his skin, can see his pulse-point pump blood into his hands. These bonds he has started to get entangled with, were they too one-sided?

No. Will trusts him. He doesn’t trust anyone else. 

The way he had initiated the kiss, the bite to his lip that still ached a bit when he teased it with his tongue, sending hot pulses of memory through his veins. His scent.

No. Not one-sided. 

He takes up the knife again, stepping up to his counter and continuing his work. He has a meal to prepare and his next work of art to plan. He has a pile of very nice shards that he can’t use, but that had inspired him. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.- 

In the end they sort out twenty-seven Omegas from the onslaught of responses after the press conference and for the next days, they are busy with conducting interviews and checking out the locations where the young Omegas had been assaulted. It was more than enough to form a pattern.

The first victims had been difficult to confirm, as they had aborted the pregnancies in the early stages after the assault, but their description of their assailant matched up with the others and such could be linked to them. After these early, what the team now assumes the serial-rapist considers as failures, the pool of victims changed from random to Omegas from conservative and strict backgrounds. Here too some of them had aborted the pregnancy, but most of the Omegas had born the child. This change in victims was so telling, even Crawford figured it out, without Will having to push the agents nose into it.

It wasn’t the rape they were after, it was the children.

Everybody is relieved to get away from the case for the weekend. Relax, get their bearings back.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Will sighs from the bottom of his soul as he sinks into the cool water of the river. The light of the morning sun shines red through the boughs of the trees, seemingly setting the world on fire. He lets himself drift away from the shore into the deeper waters. Lying comfortably on the surface of the water, he watches nature paint the sky into incredible art. 

A noise, like the huff of an enormous animal catches his attention and he lets himself sink into a standing position, the water reaching his shoulders when his feet touch the ground. He turns toward the forest on the other side of the river and gasps. 

There, lying in the light of the rising sun is the stag, its gigantic, crowned head turned towards the light, seemingly enjoying the warmth of it. Its charcoal feathers rustle in the breeze and glisten as if wet. Wills heart suddenly wants to beat out of his chest. 

Cautiously he swims a little closer, his eyes drinking in the details of the creature. He is almost on the other side of the river when a small wave crushes against him and the noise startles the stag. It turns its head and opens its eyes to look at him. The moon is gone from its gaze and in the light of day the eyes are instead filled with oceans of blood. 

It stands from its lying position, towering over him. It does not run or threaten him, though and thus, Will takes a step forwards. And another, until he is close enough to touch. He can see himself reflected in those crimson eyes, a human shaped creature made of gold and fire, droplets of silver water running down his naked skin. 

He reaches out and his hand sinks into the feathers of the stags neck. They are cool to the touch, but underneath the surface, close to the skin he almost burns his fingers from the heat. The stag turns away from him and his hand slips out of the feathers painted with blood. Will frowns at his hand and doesn't notice the stag turning around and pushing him back into the river until he falls backwards into the water with a splash. 

Will wakes up with a gasp, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air as his body aches with lust. He plunges two of his fingers into the soft, wet folds of his heat and moans deeply, dragging his other hand over the hard shaft of his cock. He moves his hands frantically, panting, gasping and moaning as he tries to get his fingers deeper, squeezes harder. It's not enough. 

He remembers thin, slightly chapped lips against his, a hot tongue invading his mouth, teeth biting at his lips. He imagines those lips wandering against his skin, those teeth biting at his neck - 

The wave of his orgasm clenches around his fingers in pulses, trying to pull them deeper into him and he sobs as his thumb twists over the head of his cock and his second orgasm takes him even harder than the first. 

He is panting and shivering in the cool morning air when he regains his senses. He doesn't want to move, wants to enjoy the remaining waves of heat spreading through him, but he is sticky and sweaty and has to get out of bed in fifteen minutes anyways to get ready for work. He pulls his fingers out, caressing his inner thigh, imagining someone elses hands on his skin. Long fingers, artists hands. 

He doesn't stop the purr from escaping his throat. He is lying in his bed, drenched in his own hormones and scent, he is allowed to indulge himself a little bit more. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“The copycat killer has left us another gift.” Crawford had said when he had called, apparently he’d finally learned that he doesn’t need to drive out to Wills house to get Will to come look at crime scenes. Will could only hope that this is a development that the man would keep. 

Looking at the crime scene, Will has to shake his head at Jacks assumption. This isn’t another gift to them.

It is a gift for Will. 

The body is splintered like a fallen porcelain doll. Arms and legs severed and in parts, the edges lined with shards of clear crystal glass, inserted under the skin and so perfectly arranged, Will would bet he could glue that doll back together. The head is not entirely cut off from the body, but a gash is driven deeply into the neck, and like a smile with glittering teeth, crystal shards are what keeps the head from rolling off. The crystal shimmers and glitters in the morning sun getting in from the windows and the lamps the CSI’s had brought. 

The lower abdomen is folded open with a T-cut and instead of the pink of organs, it is filled with pristine, red tulips, planted in rich, dark earth. 

If there had been any doubt in his mind that the copycat killer and the Chesapeak Ripper are one and the same person, it is extinguished right here. That kind of artistry only exists once.

“The victim has priors in sexual assault, but couldn’t be convicted because the victims always rescinded their claim.” Will throws a questioning look towards Katz, when she speaks up and she shakes her head. “Sadly, he is not the one we’re looking for, but he is a rapist.” she sighs and goes back to documenting the scene. 

“What do red tulips mean?” Zeller asks absently into the room as he examines the neck of the body, looking for the actual cause of death. Will hesitates a moment, waiting for someone else to know and say it. Nobody does. 

“It’s a declaration of love.” he explains, not looking at anyone. Katz, Zeller and Price hesitate for a moment and throw him a look, before going back to work. 

“You learn this in Omega school?” Zeller asks and yelps when Price kicks him slightly.

“No, I learned the language of flowers while studying the criminal minds of serial killers.” Will answers honestly, his gaze still captured by the tulips. Would they notice if one or two go missing? He could plant them by the house. 

“Who is our copycat killer declaring their love to, then?” Price asks, a frown on his face as he looks at Katz, who shrugs.

 _Me._ “I don’t know, could be anyone.” Will says dismissively. Frustration paints itself on the faces around him. 

“Then let’s finish this up and go back to HQ, we still have to get through all the database pings from the description of our alive-victims.” Katz mutters as she collects more fibers. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Will stands in Hannibals office and for the first time he feels conflicted. 

“I’ve read there was a murder?” Hannibal asks as he offers him a glass of wine, a light red this time. Will takes it and nods. 

“Yes, the copycat killer.” he confirms. The Chesapeake Ripper, goes unsaid between them.

“Oh?” Hannibal sits down on the couch, leaving enough space for Will to join him, but Will can’t quite settle down yet. “Something interesting?” he asks and Will takes a sip from his wine, so that he can have a moment to think. It has a bitter tang, with hints of something sweet. It’s not for him and he puts the glass onto Hannibals desk. 

“It was-” Will tries, but can’t get the words out. He likes Hannibal, adores him, almost loves him. He doesn’t want to hurt him with this. He can see Hannibal frown from the corner of his eyes. The other man sets aside his own glass of wine and stands up again, positioning himself in front of Will, stance soft and non-threatening. His dark, red-brown eyes study Will intensely for a moment and then mirth enters them, a short laugh escaping his lips. 

“Was it very flattering?” he asks amused and Wills eyes widen at the unexpected humor. He regards Hannibals shoulders, thinking about his answer. 

“He sent me red tulips.” Will admits, blushing. He does not hesitate to grasp Hannibals hand, when the psychiatrist offers it and lets himself be pulled closer, until their bodies align. All the tension of the day seems to ebb out of his muscles and he sighs as he sinks against Hannibal. He leads them to the couch and soon they are settled against each other, Hannibals fingers caressing through Wills hair.

“Should I be worried then?” Hannibal asks softly against his hair and Wills heart picks up its rhythm.

“Is that what _this_ is then?” Will asks instead and the fingers along his skull twitch slightly before halting altogether. They find their way under Wills chin and lift his head, so that he can look at Hannibals face. 

“Yes, it is. If you want to label what I intend to build between us, then yes it is exactly that. A courtship.” Hannibal declares firmly, calmly. “If you would let me, I would give you everything you desire and everything you didn’t know you wanted.” he continues, his voice hypnotizing and sending shivers of hot and cold down Wills spine. 

“But you’re a Be-” lips against his stop him from finishing that sentence and he gasps at the brush of a kiss. 

“Tell me Will, how often have you thought of me as a Beta in the last days?” Hannibal asks honestly and Wills mind blanks as he tries to think back the last few days. Not many times, never when they were alone with each other. “Does it really matter?” 

No. It doesn’t matter. Not to him. He shakes his head and another kiss brushes over his lips.

“Now tell me, this gift from the Chesapeake Ripper, what _did_ you think of it?” the smile pressed to the corner of his lips is sharp, like a knife and Will can’t help but shiver with pleasure. He grins as he starts to recount every impression he got from his present. 

He even tells him that he managed to steal one of the tulips. Hannibal just laughs happily and kisses him. Will thinks he could get drunk from the other mans joy and continues to tell him everything.

Here, he is accepted. 

Here, he is safe.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww Hannibal...  
> Oh, Will... let's see if you still think that way by the end of the next chapter.
> 
> Hope you liked it!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, not four months this time! Enjoy!

Will can see the realisation of it in her eyes. They are working on the case of the serial rapist, which the press insensitively started to call _the Babymaker_ , and Alana is helping out, as Hannibal can’t just put off all his assignments with his high-society, well paying clients. She is good with talking to the parents of the victims, less so with the victims themselves, as no matter how much she tries, her Alpha behaviour keeps shining through and being asked invasive questions by her shuts most of them down. Will tries not to, but he can’t help but feel a possessive pride when his thoughts drift to Hannibal and how he had been so much better at this in the days before. 

Alana is just leaving the interrogation room with Crawford at her side, her expression conflicted, as the victim, a young man by the name of Christoph Lenn, just refused to talk to them, visibly struggling against his instincts to obey Alpha commands. Will is actually impressed with the young Omega, but he supposes it is a thing he’d want to learn after what had happened to him. Alana and Crawford enter the room where Will and a few techs had been watching and recording the conversation and Alanas gaze falls on Will. Her nose flares on a breath and he can see something click inside her and he just thinks, _she knows_.

“Will, I know we said we preferred you not talking to the victims, as we don’t want to make you working for us public, but I want you to talk to this kid. We need to know what happened.” Crawford talks first, interrupting anything Alana might have wanted to say. She opens her mouth, her expression telling everyone in the room that she doesn’t think that it is a good idea, but Will answers first. 

“It’s okay. I’ll do it.” Alanas eyes widen with surprise, probably because she knows, that he hadn’t directly interacted with another Omega in years. Two months ago, he wouldn’t have done it, but with everything that had happened between Hannibal and him… Maybe he was improving. “I want you to shut down the video recording in the room, only audio, otherwise I wont do it.” he demands and sees Crawford opening his mouth to protest. “And I want everyone else to leave this room, Jack, you can stay, Alana too, but the others leave.”

“Will, why would this be necessary? I don’t thi-”

“Jack, I said this when I agreed working for you, you might remember.” Will prompted and something flashes in Crawfords eyes. Recognition and anger at being talked to with such disrespect. He swallows back his pride though and nods.

“I remember.” he says and starts barking orders that make Will flinch.

“Why no cameras?” Alana whispers to him while Crawford is busy ordering around his techs. Will watches Lenn through the two-way mirror and frowns. 

“Because the interaction between two Omegas is nobody's business.” Will explains and leaves the room. Especially an older Omega taking care of a younger one. He takes a deep breath and then turns to enter the interrogation room. Christoph Lenn looks up from his hands and his eyes widen slightly when he sees Will. Will throws him a soft smile and moves into the room, firmly closing the door behind him. 

Lenn is seventeen years old, still a little lanky, with short, gold-blond hair and dark, mocha colored eyes, which are framed by long dark lashes. He has all the signs of turning devastatingly beautiful in a few more years. He sees Will and despite his surprise, something relaxes in the young man. 

Will steps forward and does not make his way over to the other chair opposite Lenn. Instead he stays on Lenns side of the table and sits down on it, right in front of the young man, shielding him from view with his body. He can see tears spring up in the other Omegas eyes and he gently hums, reaching out to caress the young mans cheek and comb his fingers soothingly through the blond strands of hair. He lifts his feet and settles them on either side of Lenns legs on the chair, further cutting him off from the world. 

“Shh.” he hushes soothingly as tears start to run down the young Omegas cheeks now. “I am here.” he whispers softly and keeps up the gentle touches, his own heart jubilating when Lenn leans into him for comfort. “You were very impressive right now. Defying the Alphas, I know it was hard.” Will praises him, coaxing a shaky but proud smile from Lenn.

“It is.” the teenager finally speaks up, his voice barely more than a whisper, but Will knows the equipment will pick it up. “It is so hard, everything in me still screams to obey.” he admits, eyes looking down in shame. Will firms his hands grip and gently shifts his head so their eyes meet. 

“Chris-, can I call you Chris?” Will asks and receives a nod before continuing, his right hand starting to comfortingly comb through Lenns hair again, while the other settles on Chris’ hand, which has settled on his slightly swollen belly. Just starting the fifth month. 

“Chris, obedience does not make you weak. These instincts we have, are not a weakness.” Will begins and can see that the other Omega doesn’t believe him. Before meeting Hannibal, he wouldn’t have believed it either, but he had learned something. “It is a gift to be given to only one person, though.” he had the young mans attention now. “Everyone else does not deserve it and you have all the right to deny them.” Will states firmly, eyes staying connected with Chris’.

The young mans eyes widen as if Wills words had triggered something in his mind, his shoulders relaxing just slightly, as some of his internal struggles are laid to rest. 

Will leans forward, grasping both of Chris’ hands in his own, watching as the perceived security of an older Omega relaxes him further. “I know you don’t want to think about what happened to you. I know you want to talk about it even less.” Will begins and Chris closes his eyes and lowers his head as more tears roll down his cheeks. Will presses a small kiss onto the crown of his head. “I need you to tell me anyway, Chris. I need you to stop him doing it again.”

Pale arms sneak forward and cling to his arms, their grip surprisingly strong.

“You’re right, I really don’t, but…” he takes a shuddering breath and they both tighten their grip on each other. “I… I was on my way home from my friend, Jessie, we had just finished that stupid report about the gender rebellion of 1732. It was late and I had been feeling off the whole day, feverish, I should have known it was the Heat coming, I should have just stayed home. But it was flu season and I wasn’t due for another two months, so I didn’t think… I just didn’t think…” Chris swallows, his voice shaking.

“Shh, it wasn’t your fault, Chris. None of this was your fault.” Will firmly reassures him and Chris continues. Will breathes out and lowers his guard, the Pendulum swinging in his minds eye.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It is dark, darker than usual when he walks home from Jessie and he shivers as the wind catches at his jacket. His gaze slides up towards the streetlights and he notices that some of them seem to be broken, which explains the lack of light. He stumbles as another wave of fever hits him, frowning as his shivering gets worse and his bones seem to ache with it. He makes his way further along the park, eyes sliding up ahead, where he can already see the first house of his street.

Suddenly there’s something different, his perception of the world closing in, a scent hits him like a truck. The fever that had annoyed him all day turns volatile, spreads from the centre of his body through his limbs, to his head, making him weak, confusion dizzying him. 

His knees hit the ground. Another whiff of that scent, something… his thoughts are too jumbled to describe it. He mewls helplessly as the fever turns into Heat, as slick begins to drip down his thighs, as an aching pain starts in his lower abdomen and his sweat fills the air with his hormones and turns it unbearably sweet. A hand slides along his chin, fingers dry and cool. His traitorous body leans into the touch, while his mind recoils in terror. 

No! No, no, no, no, please no!

“Such a pretty thing.” he can hear someone say in the darkness above him, the fingers on his chin tightening, bruising. “You’ll do nicely. Now, _lay back_.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Will recoils slightly, blinking rapidly while his gaze slides over blond hair and his arms grasp at more slender ones. Right. This is now, he’s in the BAU. It wasn’t him. Chris.

Chris had fallen silent and is looking at the floor in shame. Will sighs with heartbreak and pulls him into his arms. It’s an awkward position, with both of them sitting and Chris’s pregnant belly between them, but it’s firm and reassuring. 

“Can you describe the scent to me? Was it familiar?” Will asks softly. There’s a moment when they just breathe, both seeming to catch their breath, both trying to calm down. 

“It was... an Alpha scent, but different. Even more intense, almost suffocating and something else, but I don’t know… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. This already helps immensely. You are so brave, Chris. Thank you.” Chris looks up and they part from their embrace, his eyes slightly red from crying. Will reaches out and brushes away the last dampness from tears, earning a small, but grateful smile. 

Chris’ eyes grow distant and a frown settles on the young mans brow. “I don’t know if I can keep the baby.” he whispers hoarsely. “I know it’s not their fault, I know that. I fear that everytime I look at them I’ll feel his hands on me. That everytime they’ll look at me I’ll remember him moving inside me. I’m just so afraid, I don’t know what to do.”

Will pulls him back into his arms, soothing his hands up and down his back. “I can’t tell you what to do. I’m sorry.” Will calmly says, while his heart beats against his ribs like it wants to escape. “But I promise, I’ll stop him.” As they part from their embrace, Will makes sure his index finger brushes Chris’ neck and mocha eyes widen and then turn hard with understanding, with approval. 

“Thank you.” and for the first time since they met, Chris’s voice is firm and unshaken.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Will hands over Chris to his Alpha-mother and is relieved to notice that Chris seems comfortable in her presence. He enters the observation-room and Crawford and Alana turn towards him, interrupting their conversation. 

“He’s triggering the Heat.” Will states, interrupting any attempt at them bringing up anything like unprofessional conduct with a witness or something else equally as ridiculous. “Some of the others mentioned dismissing the early signs of the Heat with a low fever and scenting an Alpha just before the attack.” Will angrily brushes his hair back from his face, pissed at himself for only noticing now. The early signs of heat did indeed feel like a fever, but there was usually nothing low about it. He had dismissed it as the inexperience of youth, but at least the parents should have noticed the change of scents, their friends should have smelled it long before it set in. He had tried to distance himself too much. He hadn’t wanted to get too close to this case. 

See what it gets him, the moment he lets his guard down, the moment he lets it get close, an important clue reveals itself. He would have nightmares for sure, Chris’ emotions are still boiling inside him, churning in his stomach and freezing the breath in his lungs as he tries to breathe through them. It is not in vain, though. They are one step closer to catching the guy.

“They dismissed it, because for most of them, they weren’t due another Heat for a few weeks or months. It’s not unusual for teenage Omegas to still be a little wonky with the timing, but this is not coincidence. Somehow, he’s triggering it.” Will continues and looks up into the wide eyes of Alana and the pinched look of Crawford. 

“This seems a little… “ Alana begins, but is interrupted by Crawford. 

“Absurd.” the head of the BAU finishes the hesitant sentence. Will frowns at them and shakes his head in disbelief. 

“No, it isn’t. There was scientific research being done during World War II by a french doctor. I don’t remember the name, but I can look it up. He was trying to find a way to trigger the Heat to destabilise the Omegan led armies of the Third Reich. We all know that they never used it, but from what I read, he did manage to cook up something that would have worked.” Will glares at Crawford and can see that he is not getting through. 

“That was just war propaganda, same as the Omegan led armies. There was and still is, no proof of that.” Crawford dismisses again and Will is done. He turns around and begins to leave the room.

“Fine.” he snaps. “If you don’t mind, I don’t feel so good, I’m going home.” 

“You _STAY HERE_!” the room trembles with the command and Will barely notices Alanas shocked gasp over the overwhelming flood of Alpha hormones pressing in on him with the order. Every fiber of his body is trying to obey, while his mind screams not to. The edges of his vision turns grey with the strain and his heart beats against his ribcage as if it wants to break through the bones. _He can’t resist._

The memory of a caress across his collarbone. Hannibal. 

_“I am not YOURS!”_ Will burst out as he turns around, his expression furious as he looks at Crawford, whose face has gone pale as he realizes what he had just done to Will. “You do _not_ own me! I will leave now and you wont stop me.”

He throws a glance towards Alana, who is currently looking at Crawford with a furious expression herself and he leaves the further lashing of his boss to her. 

Shaking with fury and fear he leaves the building towards his car. He has to sit in it for more than fifteen minutes before his hands stop shaking enough for him to get the keys into the ignition-slot. He could not believe that Crawford had just used an Alpha command on him. A sharp pain shoots through his chest as the betrayal of trust settles in beside the anger. 

A burst of hysterical laughter bursts out of him. He had resisted him. Barely, but he had resisted him. 

Breathing, keep breathing. He turns the key and still trembling throughout his whole body with the shock of what had just happened, he slowly makes his way out of the parking lot and onto the streets. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hannibal locks up his car and tilts his head as a current of air carries a familiar scent towards him. He turns and walks over towards his porch and raises his eyebrows at what he finds. 

“Will?” he asks softly and the other man looks up at him from his crouching position on Hannibals door steps. Something flutters in Hannibals chest, something possessive that turns sharp when he registers Wills distress. “What happened?” he inquires and carefully reaches out towards the Omega. Will grimaces a smile as he stumbles slightly to his feet and takes the few steps he needs to fall into Hannibals arms. Almost on instinct Hannibal encloses him in an embrace. He breathes in Wills scent, noticing hints of another Omega, along with the usual Alpha and Beta scents from work. Crawford stronger than usual, actually. 

Will is shuddering through a breath as well and tightens his grip on Hannibal. The doctor lifts one of his hands and starts combing his fingers soothingly through Wills hair, starting to hum in a low voice. They remain like this for a few moments, Hannibal patiently waiting for Will to calm himself. After the trembling has mostly subsided, Hannibal lets his fingers wander from Wills hair towards his neck, his fingertips ghosting across warm skin. Goosebumps rise under his touch and now his own breath seems to be difficult to catch. 

“Why don’t we go inside, hm? Get a little bit more comfortable.” he suggests, while he can’t get his gaze to look away from the sight of his fingers on Wills skin. He feels a nod against his shoulder. 

“Yes, that would be nice.” Will sighs against the fabric of Hannibals coat. 

They settle down on the sofa in the living room, Hannibal lights a few of the dimmer lamps, painting the room into warm light. He shortly disappears, but returns with two mugs, filled with delicious smelling hot chocolate. Will leans into him while they drink and after a little coaxing from Hannibal, tells him everything that happened at work. 

They are both sipping the last few swallows from their mugs when he finishes with his story. Hannibals grip on the porcelain is so tight he can feel the material strain beneath his fingers. How dare he? How dare Crawford use an Alpha command on Will? 

Warm fingers caress across the side of his neck and his attention shifts towards Will. Another caress and the fury inside his blood ebbs away. Not forgotten, but pushed away for the moment. 

“Hmmm.” Hannibal hums thoughtfully. He can see a smile form on Wills face from the corner of his eyes. 

“Are you going to defend my honor the next time you see him?” Will asks with amusement. Hannibal quirks an eyebrow at him, making his smile widen. Possessiveness blooms into unfamiliar warmth inside the doctors chest.

“Do you want me to?” he playfully challenges him. Will seems to catch something in his gaze or maybe underneath, but his smile freezes and then softens. Honest amusement turning into bewildered fondness. The profiler shifts his hand from Hannibals neck, shifting his whole body, so that he can straddle him and hold his face in his hands. Hannibal looks up into blue-grey eyes, enthralled by the confidence Will displays, proud that he managed to make him comfortable enough with both their bodies. Will keeps surprising him.

His own hands shift to spread across Wills thighs, warmth radiating through cheap jeans. The fingers cupping his face are dry, the left thumb caressing his cheekbone. Every point of contact is exhilarating. Blue-grey eyes study his face with intensity and Hannibal can’t help but meet the challenge. He lets his mask become askew and relishes as Wills eyes widen. He watches as again, goosebumps shiver across Wills skin and his own heart takes notice. His pulse increases and his hands shift higher as Wills hands shift lower towards his tie. 

Hannibal watches calmly as Will pulls down the knot, watches his fingers gliding over the silk with unhidden want as he slips it off Hannibals neck. There is a slight tremor in his hands as he unbuttons Hannibals west and slides it off his shoulders, a catch of breath from both of them as Will starts undoing the buttons of Hannibals dress shirt and his fingertips first touch the skin underneath. Wills gaze is followed by those same fingers as he explores Hannibals chest and torso. They catch on scars and linger in curves. It doesn’t take long and Hannibal can’t hold himself back any longer. 

He lifts his right hand, reaching out, stopping his movement just shy of touching Wills cheek. Their eyes meet again and the trust in Wills gaze rushes through Hannibal with rapture. He leans his head into Hannibals touch and it is all the permission Hannibal needs. 

He leans up and pulls Will down to meet half-way. A brush of lips, once, twice, a third time. Their breath mingles, Wills hands holding onto his shoulders for dear life. 

“Kiss me, Hannibal.” Will whispers against his lips and their eyes meet again. Why should he hold himself back again? Here, so close to Will, less than a breath apart, he forgets. He keeps forgetting. 

His fingers shift into Wills hair, tangling in his locks. 

“Aš būsiu” he whispers and brushes their lips again, then a press, a sliding of teeth, causing Will to release a gaspy moan, that turns into a needy hum as Hannibal takes the opportunity to invade his mouth. With every slide of tongue he conveys his devotion, with every catch of teeth on Wills lips he challenges Will to take over. With a heady rush of power he relishes in the realisation that Will has started purring between moans and gasps as teeth find his own lips and bite down sharply. The soft pain fills his chest with a rush of pleasure and his left hand moves towards Wills front, where his fingers caress over rough cloth, pressing against the hard bulge beneath.

“Hannibal.” Will gasps between moans that quickly turn into mewls, the longer Hannibal brushes his fingers against Wills erection. He presses a sharp smile into Wills mouth before shifting his hands and standing up with Will balanced on his hip. “Wh-What?” Will whispers with shock, senses most likely overloaded. Hannibal doesn’t give him the chance to recover, as he sits him down on the couch and kneels before him. His long fingers make quick work of Wills jeans, sliding them down and off Wills legs. 

Will throws his head back in ecstasy as Hannibals fingers close around his hard cock and shouts in shock and pleasure as a hot mouth follows. Hannibal closes his eyes as fingers grasp at his head and try to hold themselves back from pushing or pulling. He closes his eyes and opens up his senses. 

The taste of Will on his tongue is exquisite. Wills scent, his hormones, which had started to pervade the room as soon as they started kissing, are now almost overwhelming in intensity, pushing everything else aside. 

With one hand holding onto Wills hip, he slides the fingers of his other hand trough silky, slick folds, teasing and relishing in Wills tries to chase his fingers and his mouth. He looks up at Will, making sure that the moment their eyes finally meet, is the moment he swallows Will down and plunges two of his fingers deep into delicious heat. Will is writhing above him, moans, gasps, mewls and purrs creating a symphony of desire and passion. It is a song, Hannibal discovers, he would never be tired of. 

The tightening around his fingers warns him, split-seconds before Will rushes through two, almost simultaneous orgasms. Greedily Hannibal swallows and licks every drop from Wills erection, while he slightly wiggles his fingers buried in Will, causing sparks of heat to prolong his climax. 

When all the tension in Wills body relaxes and his head falls back into the cushions of Hannibals couch, Hannibal pulls away, brushing his lips against Wills inner thigh. He studies his slick hand for a moment before his tongue darts out for a taste, moaning at the essences of Will joining each other in his mouth. 

Fingers brush through his hair, against his ear. 

“Should I?” Will asks, his other hand reaching towards Hannibal, but the doctor catches it with his own hand before he can reach any further. 

“No.” Hannibal replies with a fond smile on his lips. “That is not necessary.”

They remain a moment like this, Hannibals head leaning against Wills inner thigh and Wills fingertips caressing through his hair, before Will yawns and Hannibal chuckles with amusement. 

“Let’s get something to eat and then go to bed.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hannibal is sleeping and Will feels as if he should be asleep as well, he is definitely exhausted enough. His thoughts keep turning though. To the moment amusement about Hannibals attempts at chivalry had turned into something heated. He had straddled Hannibal with a boldness he had been terrifyingly comfortable with. The moment he was lost however, was the moment something seemed to have shifted inside the other man. For a while, Will had wondered what Hannibal had meant, when he said that he wanted to be seen by Will. In that moment, he had caught a glimpse of… 

Hunger. 

Not just for Will, but for life in every aspect. Not a hunger that could be soothed, but something intense and all consuming. He had caught a glimpse and had wanted more. Will shudders, not sure if it was with dread or with pleasure. 

What had followed still sends shivers of lust through his body with the memory of it. He cannot help but to reach out and brush his fingers over Hannibals thin lips. Consumed is a good word for how he still feels. 

A frown forms between Wills eyebrows, as he remembers the aftermath. After the incredible high of his climax and his desire to reciprocate. The realization that Hannibal hadn't been hard. Only the expression of utter bliss on the other mans face and the pure content radiating from Hannibals body had held him back from doubting himself in that moment. 

Wills gaze drifts away from Hannibals mouth, down his chest to the almost faded, silvery scar slicing across his abdomen. 

A sigh escapes from between dry lips as Hannibal turns and pulls Will to him, leaning their heads against each other. 

“Your thoughts are too loud.” the other man whispers. Will flushes and is thankful for the darkness surrounding them. The moonlight not enough to show colors. His fingers drift over Hannibals scar and the man freezes shortly before a sigh escapes him. Wills heart is drumming against his ribs. 

“How old were you?” the Omega asks softly, closing his eyes. 

“Fourteen.” comes the equally soft reply. “I was a late bloomer.” 

Yes, most differentiations happen between the age of eleven to twelve. At fourteen most people would not expect the change to set in anymore. Wills thoughts drift towards another conversation and cold dread spreads through his chest. 

“It saved your life.” he murmurs, almost not able to speak that thought out loud. A bitter smile crosses Hannibals lips. 

“I imagine it did. By that time no one was looking at me anymore, no one suspected.” his voice is low, barely more than a breath. It seems unreal, this conversation in the dark. Wills fingers continue to stroke the scar, his gaze lost somewhere in the dark room.

“Did you have help?” he asks and a long moment of silence follows. 

“No.” Hannibal finally answers. “I had no one I could trust not to betray me to the authorities. I had to do it myself.”

In the darkness, Wills gaze drifts towards Hannibals face, searching in the sudden blankness that has descended over his features. 

“So you’re actually a-”

“-a Beta, Will.” Hannibal interrupts him calmly. “I’ll never be anything else.”

But he should have been and now that he knows, Will doesn’t understand how he hadn’t noticed before? All the discrepancies he has noticed about Hannibals behaviour towards him, towards others, it was so obvious now.

“Are you disappointed?” Hannibal asks, his voice devoid of all emotion and Will knows that his answer will shift their relationship. He takes a moment to think about it. 

Is he? No. He just found the answer to some of the questions he had been asking himself about the other man, but that didn’t change the fact that Hannibal was still fascinating, caring and so unbelievably understanding of Will and his quirks. It didn’t change the fact that the slide of his skin across his own ignited a fire in his belly, or that Will had to tell himself to keep breathing every time he looks into those maroon eyes. 

“No, I’m not disappointed.” he replies at last, his gaze resting at Hannibals throat. “Curious, though.” he says and looks up to see Hannibals lips stretch into a small smirk. 

“If I can get hard?” Hannibal asks nonchalantly and Will flushes a deep scarlet that is even noticable in the dark, making Hannibal chuckle. The taller man shifts, his mouth brushing Wills ear as he whispers in the darkness, making Will shudder with desire at the crass words from Hannibals lips. 

“Next time, I’ll let you fuck me. You’ll find out.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite things about this chapter: Hannibal being ultimately comfortable with his body and Will being bold enough to ask some questions.   
> And he got some answers as the price, isn't that nice? 
> 
> The lithuanian in here means "I will." at least according to google, if somebody knows better, please correct me :)  
> Hope you liked it :)


End file.
